


A Story of Razorwind

by DarkMrowlidash



Category: Transformers Animated (2007), Transformers: Prime
Genre: AU combined universes, Multi, Sticky, a lot of size difference, odd pairings, tentacles and telepathy, written using daydreams
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-01
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-07 04:22:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 43,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/744205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkMrowlidash/pseuds/DarkMrowlidash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Razorwind, last of the Knights, awakens to a world divided by factions, changed by war, and devoid of the structure that once governed her kind. Unable to withstand purposelessness, she must find her place within.<br/>The story of my Transformers OC. If you don't like OC stories, feel free to pass. I'll be trying my best to write something enjoyable for more than just me, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dark Mrowlidash here, finally gaining access to Ao3.. posting some entirely new stuff here.  
> A bunch of us TF fangirls probably have our own inner avatars in their universe... this story is about mine. It's also my attempt to get some of my favorite underloved pairings and strange headcanon ideas out there to corrupt other people's minds. 
> 
> The story takes place in an AU that's a combination of TFA and TFP, the general ground rule is that if a character in the story has a TFP version, that's the version of the character you're seeing. (or reading, rather) If there are exceptions that pop up down the line you can.. forgive me?
> 
> You have my complete permission to use any of my original characters or concepts in your own works. Form your own Knight order. ^_^ 
> 
> If you're willing to come along... Enjoy.

 

 

What was once just a tiny blip at the edges of Lugnut's radar, was now looming before him.

A massive white starship, hanging frozen and still in the depths of space. Scanning it yielded no affiliation, this was neither an Autobot, nor Decepticon vessel. Still, the size, the detected presence of energon.. certainly Cybertronian in make, and very possibly still functional, at least from its outward appearance. Functionality was all that mattered. For Lugnut to survive, and complete his mission, he would have to find some kind of interstellar transportation. 

 

Approaching the ship's main airlock gate raised an immediate concern. Lugnut had been expecting to have to break in, somehow, either through hacked access codes, which while he had a few on file, he doubted would have worked on an unaffiliated ship, or to have to find a way to tear inside in a manner that _didn't_ damage the ship too badly. 

 

What he had _not_ been expecting, was for the main gate to be completely unlocked.

Uncertain, but not deterred, he stepped through the airlock into the ship's interior.

It was altogether unremarkable, in comparison to the magnificent white sparkle of the outside. The interior metals were a mixture of dull grays, and while only the barest of backup lighting systems were online, Lugnut could make out several data consoles that could perhaps give him an idea as to what kind of ship this was, and what it was capable of. He'd need the flight specs, and most importantly, the fuel levels.. this thing had clearly been untouched for ages, if it could even still move was definitely in question.

Laying a pincher on the console activated it... slowly, as if rousing it from a long slumber. Bits of information flashed across the screen... last activation date was...

Millions of years ago.

Lugnut's main optic blinked, and the secondaries blinked shortly after. An ancient Cybertronian starship! Predating the Great War... predating even the very existence of a divided Cybertronian people! And it was still _functioning?_

Curiosity took hold, Lugnut began scanning the last used commands on the console. What had the crew been doing here, in the middle of uncharted space?

"Stasis lock..." he mumbled, affirming that indeed, the entire ship had been placed into _intentional_ stasis by a crew member--likely explaining why it was still in working condition at this point. "But why? The ship has enough energon for continued flight..." he confirmed, checking the levels, and various other vital statistics of the vessel... Apparently it had departed ancient Cybertron with two crew members, one of which...

 

Was still on board. 

 

Lugnut's jawplate slacked a moment at the information provided on the screen. One of the ship's two stasis pods was flagged as 'in-use'. The other was not.. but checking the other sub-vessels revealed why.. one of the ship's two escape pods had been deployed, shortly before the last activation of the console.

"So one of them abandoned the ship.. and left the other here.. in stasis.." Lugnut rumbled, this whole situation not sitting well with his processor. Something was clearly wrong here, but at the same time, whatever _was_ wrong here was likely a better risk than floating along in space waiting for the next opportunity to save himself from eventual starvation.

For a moment, Lugnut considered reactivating the ship, but _not_ the stasis pods. The ship could be returned to a functional mode, and its current inhabitant could remain asleep, and not a risk factor. However.. he knew that the Decepticon cause _always_ needed more soldiers.. and the chance to meet a real Ancient?

He couldn't pass that up. Pulling up a map of the ship's interior, Lugnut pinpointed the location of the stasis pods.. and made his way for them.

\---

 

"Hmm... Rockwrecker.. your spark is troubled, I can hear it. Noble companion, tell me what weighs upon you." she spoke directly into his chest, curled upon it as she did every night of this lonely, cold adventure.

"Forgive me the disruption. I did not intend to cause you alarm. It is merely thoughts," the gray, solemn mech answered quietly, sounding distant, elsewhere. "Thoughts I ought banish, certainly. For your sake."

She'd wanted to press, find out the real truth behind his worried sparkbeat and trembling wings, not quite slight enough to hide, behind his constant withdrawal from her, behind his dour expression, behind _him_ , but it was astonishingly hard to get any closer--even as she was pressed against him.

"Rockwrecker.." she whispered, and he merely shuttered his optics.

"Please..." he faltered, "dear companion. Get some recharge..."

 

Fine. If he wouldn't speak about this now, perhaps he would in time...

\---

 

"Have I slept past my shift?" she asked, disoriented, as she rose from the berth, stretching her arms, stretching her wings.. wait.. Was this the berth? Upright, uncomfortable.. gases dispersing around her face.. No...

 

Lugnut stared. His activation of the stasis pod was successful, and as the atmosphere within it cleared, it revealed.. a minibot femme.. a Seeker! A combination of frametypes he'd never seen. He thought all Seekers had been built for war. But then again, he'd only met those that had _survived_. 

 

"Ancient Cybertronian," Lugnut addressed, deciding to be formal, dealing with the unknown.. "The shift, and your mission entirely, are most likely irrelevant at this point."

"Then this is.. a stasis pod," the femme concluded, neck craning around sharply, optics likely searching from behind her visor, "Where is Rockwrecker, my companion?" She began to scrabble out of the pod, placing weight on legs not used for ages.. wavering.. a thin hand caught the edge of a nearby table surface and clung tightly.

Lugnut waited for her to steady herself before he spoke. "I cannot speak for your companion's location now.. but from what I have discovered, it is very likely that he is the one who placed you in stasis, and that he fled the ship, millions of years ago. He abandoned you and your mission."

 

"So that's what was troubling him.." the tiny seeker whispered to herself, and Lugnut simply blinked, and waited. "But to dishonor himself so.. I cannot believe it."

Lugnut could understand her disbelief. Loyalty and honor were concepts that literally made up the forefront of his processor. As unfortunate as this situation was however, he knew he had an opportunity. He was no schemer, like Shockwave, but he knew she had the right personality traits.. and was vulnerable.

"May I ask your designation, Ancient?"

"I am Razorwind, of the Order of Exploratory Knights," the femme stated, standing as proudly as a partially disoriented, wobbly minibot could. She certainly did _look_ like a Knight, all white armor with detailing on the plates, the kind of detailing that no one had anymore, because it was pointless and wouldn't survive a battle, much less matter after the plates had to be swapped. Her helm, an _actual_ helm, was sculpted with stylized wings along the sides, and a light blue, opaque visor obscuring her optics. Lugnut's excellent vision allowed him to catch even minor details--the visor was retractable.. he wondered what color optics she possessed underneath.

"And you are?" she inquired in return, and Lugnut nodded reflexively, back to Reality from his examinations. "Lugnut, Decepticon warrior, loyal servant of Megatron. You likely do not know the Decepticons.. as the Cybertron you departed was not yet divided. A civil war has split our people into two factions. One, are the loathsome Autobots. The others, are those who serve Megatron."

 

"You're saying that war has engulfed Cybertron?" Razorwind asked, visor blinking in disbelief.

 

"I'm saying that war has destroyed Cybertron," Lugnut corrected with finality.

Neither of them knew what to say after that, simply standing there, time hanging between them. The weight of that knowledge, that Cybertron was ravaged, uninhabitable, could get the better of even his fellow Decepticons, as Lugnut had caught more than one of them with that telltale, mournful slant to a distant expression.. but to be faced with that fact, when one's last memories of Cybertron were no doubt, of a flourishing home?

 

"Then my mission cannot be completed," Razorwind had continued the conversation, but mostly to herself. Facing down purposelessness was not something her programming was prepared for.

"Those that sent you... are probably offline." Lugnut added, not necessarily because he wanted to break the little femme's spirit, but because the more she believed she had no place in her old life.. the sooner he could introduce her to a new one. He'd scanned his.. admittedly incomplete and compact history files for information on ancient Knight specs, apparently long ago the Senate had created them in small batches, or Orders, to carry out specific tasks.

Tasks too risky for those cushy high-caste fools, certainly. Create a line of mechs and femmes with programming that makes them inclined to follow orders to maintain one's honor, and send them to do your dirty work for you. Lugnut held devotion to one's Master and following orders close to his spark, but he believed, fundamentally, that one must have _decided_ , of one's own volition, to serve. Forced loyalty, feigned loyalty, insincerity of any type, really--those were the kinds of things that made his energon boil. This little Knight was a symbol of the kinds of manipulation that the Decepticons had risen up to combat. Not that her programming was a detriment. If he could show her the truth that was Glorious Megatron... she would embrace him on her own, he knew it. And a Knight's fervor backed by a true devotion to their Lord.. It made Lugnut's very spark twinge with a hopefulness he hadn't felt in some time. Yes, he wanted her to join them. 

 

"I boarded this vessel because I intend to use it to recover my lost teammates, and find a way to return with them to my Lord Megatron. I would welcome your assistance with this."

Razorwind seemed to snap from stupor. New objective. "I will assist you, Decepticon Lugnut. If what you say is true, I also will need a new.. base of operations." She didn't want to call it anything else. 

 

"Then it is settled. Come, I need to get the ship fully online, check the fuel levels manually, and reach the command computer. The planet I'm searching for is called Chaar... from there it should be..."

As Lugnut went over the mission details, Razorwind paid attention, catching every detail and forming a path layout for how to accomplish each while traveling mostly in a complete circuit around the ship, but a part of her processor couldn't stop wondering.

Why...?

\---

 

With the coordinates placed within the navigation systems, energon levels checked, rations sorted out, and pretty much everything taken care of, there was nothing left to do but wait.

At first, Razorwind had been wary of approaching her new companion. She had more questions than any bot had patience, she was certain. But upon realizing that Lugnut was not exactly the most outgoing mech, she decided she would have to be the instigator, if she wanted any further information out of him.

"Tell me, then. What happened to Cybertron. What are these factions? Who leads your opposition? What of the Senate? Do any... Knight Orders survive? And..."

 

Question after question streamed from an insatiable quester. Lugnut did his best, patiently. He knew his viewpoints were biased, but at this point in the history of Cybertron it was probably not possible to get an unbiased opinion of the Great War.

"So.. Megatron opposed the system of higher ranking Cybertronians living off the efforts of the lower," Razorwind contemplated, "A gladiator Champion who fought for freedom, and the quality of life for his people.. And yet there are those who would oppose this?" 

 

"Your Senate was keen on maintaining their status. And their status was built upon a foundation, the concept that some mechs were inherently greater, more worthy than others. What Megatron was fighting for could not even be acknowledged as anything but troublemaking and lawlessness--or they were risking everything. Not that it saved them."

"It sounds as though nothing was saved. And yet this war still rages on other planets, across space. Could your people not find a new home away from these Autobots, declare Megatron your leader, and live with the dignity you deserve that way?"

 

Lugnut considered for a moment, nearly ready to chastise, before he remembered.. Seekers. Always ready to fly. Even as they mourned Cybertron it hurt them the least. Their inherent programming didn't allow them to get overly attached to locations, of course it overcompensated by making them overly attached to other things, like appearance or skills, and even each other, Lugnut knew of their habits of bonding in small groups. The notion that the war _had_ to rage on until Cybertron was both restored, and ruled by Megatron, wasn't always clear to them. Of course, Lugnut would explain it. In detail. 

 

And Razorwind listened, to speeches and lessons that would have been exhausting to anyone not starved for information about a suddenly foreign world. But even as she did, she still didn't quite feel... connected to anything. It was as if she was watching her life unfold from a dream. That unsettling feeling would take some time to disappear, she figured.

\---

 

As the cycle went on, Lugnut busied himself in the data consoles, learning about the ship, _The Pride of the Skies III_ , as he discovered, and its mission, which had been to locate planets in areas of space not observable from Cybertron. Every now and then he discovered something that stoked a bit of concern, such as the energon rations clearly having a limit to how long they would last, while the mission had no timeframe, and more concerning, no return date. The lack of entertainment--especially for two restless flyers, lack of recorded communications with Cybertron... The whole setup was lacking in an uncomfortable way.

Eventually Lugnut caught his main optic slipping downward over the console's screen. It was time to recharge.. ugh, his frame was sore from standing rooted in one spot so long. Gathering himself, he started to make his way to a suitable berth, but first he wanted to check in on Razorwind. The minibot had left his company some time ago, and being that she was not a fellow Decepticon, he had no method of pinging her location. However he did have an idea where she would be, the ship's data indicated that one of the two crewmembers spent a great deal of time on the Observation deck.. and honestly, had Lugnut not been so engrossed in the console, that's probably where he would have ended up too. What more was there to do aboard this dreary ship, than stare out at the stars?

"Razorwind," he spoke as he entered the deck, the vast windows casting blackness everywhere but around the tiny white frame before them. "It's been some time since I last recharged. You might wish to do so as well. Either way I wanted to inform you."

The minibot nodded, almost as if she agreed, but her words did not. "I'm not currently in need of recharge," she spoke sharply, not turning to Lugnut. Her wings moved along with her words... but did not cease after she was finished. 

 

"Very well.." Lugnut had done what was polite, and informed his only crewmate that he would not be awake and aware for the next few cycles.. it was time to find somewhere to recharge. He hoped she wouldn't take offense to his occupation of her former companion's berth.. though if that were the case she certainly would have made that known. After all, her quarters would be too small for him. He lumbered from the deck, still a bit stiff, and very tired. 

 

\---

 

Lugnut blinked a few times upon reaching the two recharge chambers, which were across a short corridor from each other. They were... identical? 

 

Now that didn't make any sense. One of the crewmembers, this Rockwrecker, was a full sized Seeker, actually a bit larger than average for his frametype, he would have been quite imposing, according to the data console, but Razorwind was very obviously not, and would have required a different arrangement for recharge.

Minibots managed energy differently than larger frames, they burned it faster, because their systems ran faster. Most minis had a signature 'chill' upon emerging from recharge, the result of their energy levels draining incredibly low, even while mostly offline. But that quick burn of energy, combined with the frigid temperatures of outer space, meant that minibots needed specialized recharging berths--with heat sources--to prevent system crashes from dangerously low temperatures, not to mention outright freezing. And they certainly could not use a duplicate of a large scale, unheated berth that didn't seem designed for any kind of mech in particular.

 

How was Razorwind even recharging for the time she wasn't in stasis? His own needs abandoned, Lugnut marched back to the Observation deck.

"If you do not require recharge--could you at least answer a few questions about--" Lugnut began as he stomped back onto the deck, only to find his previously upright minibot curled up on her side, wings shivering, arms pulled around her frame. Slag it all. Of course.

He rushed over and gathered Razorwind up, unable to understand the words she mouthed in protest at being moved, as he focused on not gripping her _too_ tightly. Pincers were not the best for this kind of thing. "You're freezing," Lugnut stated simply, hauling the femme up to his chest. "How were you able to recharge without a minibot berth? This ship doesn't have one."

 

Razorwind didn't reply.. ducking her helm.. the warmth streaming from the bulk supporting her had revived her enough to make her pride flare at the thought of being cradled so delicately by a _stranger_. Still, she didn't attempt to escape his grasp. "I.. Very similarly to how we are now," she surrendered, making her secret known. "It was the only way."

Taking in his options, or really, lack of options, Lugnut eventually vented a long sigh. "It is not my wish to make you uncomfortable, only to keep you online. Accompany me to the berth." 

 

Razorwind said nothing.. merely slacked in his grip, and nodded.

\---

 

Things did not exactly improve, once they had reached the recharge chamber. Lugnut had done his best to help the little knight find a comfortable place on his chassis, and she indeed had clung to him, absorbing the warmth from his large frame and pulsing spark... but she didn't stop shivering, and neither of them was recharging.

"This is foolishness. Forgive me." Razorwind spoke at last, trying to disengage from Lugnut, remove herself from the berth, but Lugnut gripped her with a gentle pincer and refused this motion.

"Speak with me, I will help you relax. You cannot go off by yourself, I will not allow you to freeze." Lugnut demanded, before an idea came to mind. "Or... if you do not wish to speak, allow me to do so. I have many stories... from the Great War.." he trailed off, leaving the offer hanging. He didn't want to treat such a prideful creature like a fresh sparkling.. but at the same time, if a recharge tale would soothe her, he would gladly offer it.

He could tell she was considering it, and that was a good sign.. if he had truly overstepped he knew she would have left him right then.

"I do wish.. to know more about this Great War. Tell me your tales of conquest, Lugnut," she concluded.. leaning her helm slowly, already seeming a little less tense.

"Very well.. Let me tell you about the first battle for Kaon.. all Decepticons know this tale, the story of how Megatron became who he is today... It is a source of inspiration for us all.."

And as Lugnut began the tale, he watched, as Razorwind slowly slipped from rapt attention, to a drifting processor... and eventually, into a warm, and comfortable recharge.

\---

  

In time, they made a routine of things. Long, boring, and uneventful days of watching and waiting, followed by nights of warmth and recharge tales, that started to feel more and more like how both parties wanted to truly spend their time, and not a distraction originally conceived to make a less than ideal recharge situation more bearable.

As the chronometers ticked away, eventually the two travelers neared their destination. It started with Chaar simply becoming _visible,_ to their own optics, which was a great source of relief, but now, Chaar was only a few cycles out of reach--and for some reason, this was having a rather.. opposite effect. A new sense of unease was clinging to them both. This would be their last night.

Razorwind traced idle fingers over Lugnut's insignia, as she did nearly every night. It was fascinating to her, the idea that so much meaning could be contained within a symbol. But this night, a question alighted upon her processor that she'd never thought to ask. Certainly Lugnut hadn't _always_ been a Decepticon.

"Lugnut.." she spoke directly against his chest.. she'd taken that up after some night where she'd accidentally sent her words thrumming straight into his spark, and after taking in that pleasured rumble, had decided that from then on, the practice would be intentional... and often. Something about seeing those faceplates smile was better than any heated berth system. "How did you get your insignia?"

 

For a moment she thought she'd asked the wrong question, because his frame heated far more than it ever had--even than when she'd teasingly rubbed over his gun turrets--and far faster.

"If it is not for me to know--"

But Lugnut interrupted, something _different_ in his vocalizer, "I.. I do not think I am adept enough, with _words_.. to describe the wonders of that glorious night. But if you will allow me.. I will show you."

Lugnut knew what he was offering... in a way, this was something he had meant to do, and had stalled himself on, never quite able to approach the femme with such an awkward request. But he wanted her to be ready.. because this would be something she herself, would be facing, hopefully soon. He clicked open the panel along the base of his neck, sliding forth a thick data cable, letting it hang plainly in Razorwind's view, his intentions clear. "If you would let me in... I will share with you the memories of how I became a Decepticon. How we _all_ become Decepticons."

 

And that lure of knowledge, combined with the way Lugnut seemed to _smolder_ just mentioning it, made the decision easy. Clicking open her data port, she gave Lugnut the uplink access he desired. 

 

Both of them jumped at the hissing static that leapt between them as Lugnut slid the end of his cable into Razorwind's port. Both of them knew what that meant, and neither was going to admit to having a pent-up charge.

And then she was _there_. Wherever there was... aboard a different starship--ah, this was _The Nemesis_. This one was decorated and intricate and her attention was quickly torn from it as her optics raised from the floor to level with...

 

Megatron.

A roll of heat licked through Razorwind as she simultaneously felt Lugnut in the past's reaction to seeing Megatron's face... and Lugnut in the present's. 

 

He _was_ beautiful. Savage and dangerous and _sweet Primus_ those optics were so _intense_ , adorning a handsome face so perfect it could house a row of _fangs_ and still look inviting. More than inviting. Surely some of it was Lugnut's influence over her processor.. while uplinking bots always had feelings meld and mix and confuse themselves but oh... if Lugnut felt this way about Megatron-- _he wasn't fragging wrong._

 

Startled at the intensity of her internal monologue, Razorwind attempted to regain composure, which she could sense had amused Lugnut, somewhere in their connection.. he whispered to her through it, 'Oh.. dear Razorwind..' he was smiling, 'It has only begun.'

 

"Lugnut..." Megatron spoke, and Razorwind heard his _voice_ for the first time and now she was probably running at the same temperature as her companion. "You have proven yourself in battle and I will accept you as one of my own."

"There is no greater honor, my Lord," Lugnut bowed his head again, giving Razorwind what she thought was a momentary reprieve from all the sensations bombarding her whenever she could _see_ Megatron, until he reached down and curled his claws under Lugnut's chin and made the little femme observing in the corner of the memory nearly melt down. 

 

She squeaked at the heated touch, feeling it like Lugnut did, and wondering if her faceplate was blushing as hard as she thought it was. 'It is..' Lugnut rumbled, and for a moment, she felt a ghost-like kiss, given by massive mouthplates, sweeping at the top of her helm.. that was in the real world.

"Rise, loyal warrior. And accept this gift from your Lord," Megatron had continued, leading Lugnut along with only words. He was in a trance, as he wound through the Nemesis, even as he knew where he was going. There was only one destination in this direction. Lord Megatron's personal quarters.

 

The memory started to strain and warp, skipping time, as Lugnut went from crossing a threshold into a berthroom to being suddenly pushed against a wall--he was clearly overheating while recording this, and Razorwind was as well. Megatron's hands ran over his broad chest and Razorwind mimicked it without even realizing, so caught up in all the participants in this memory sequence. 'Want...' she started to whine over the uplink, before she couldn't decide if the correct follow up was 'to touch' or 'to be touched'. It was all forgotten soon enough anyway, as Megatron started to kiss and bite and _claim_ every inch of Lugnut. 

 

"You're mine, aren't you?" Megatron asked, pure seduction. "Every piece of you, right down to your spark. If I wanted it, you'd give it to me, wouldn't you?"

"T-tear... it from my chest.." Lugnut moaned, and Razorwind never thought she'd find such a gruesome idea on the face of it... so oddly arousing.

Somehow the wall became the berth, and fangs became fingers, and those fingers were slipping into pelvic seams and teasing away interface panels. Razorwind let herself be carried by this memory whirl, feeling what it was like being pinned down by Megatron, even as the fit was _off_ , Lugnut, and his memories, were too large for her frame to accept them as perfect reality.. Megatron's hands would touch sensors that simply didn't line up to _anything_ on Razorwind... of course that didn't stop her from squirming and whining and wanting more of it regardless. 

 

Until Lugnut's interface port slid open and Megatron's insistent fingers slipped inside.

Then she promptly went from wanting more of it, to _needing_ more.

With a sharp keen, and an arch against Lugnut her port slid open, uncontrollable, slick and unbearably hot. 'Please please _please_ _please..!_ ' she sobbed through their connection, getting overwhelmed. Lugnut nearly had forgotten how easy it was to overstimulate minibots... 'Hang in there, my pretty Knight,' he tried to soothe her, whispering to her mind, 'The memory is far from over...'

 

And that was certainly true. Even with the missing moments of time, Razorwind got to clearly feel the slow _press_ that was Megatron's spike slipping, stretching, within her--no, no--Lugnut's clenching valve, even if apparently his processor had been momentarily knocked out when he'd revealed it, was it truly that amazing? She could feel him smirking through the connection. _Oh yes it was._ Because soon it was slamming recklessly into Lugnut and he was groaning and scraping the berth and not noticing and Razorwind was probably denting herself rocking into Lugnut's leg which she found herself wrapped around but then not anymore because she was back with Megatron and he had _her legs_ picked up and out of the way so he could frag her just _right!_ Or was it Lugnut, oh.. did it even matter. 

 

"My Lord!!" Lugnut shouted, literally shouted, vocalizer straining, as the impending overload crashed around his circuits and made his whole frame shudder. But just then, Megatron slowed, wickedly, smiling all those terrible fangs.

"Do you swear, Lugnut.. to serve me faithfully as long as you function?" the silver warlord spoke surprisingly clearly for a mech halfway plunged into another's port. 

 

"YES!" Lugnut roared and burned. "Forever! FOREVER!"

"Do you want this gift, Lugnut? Do you want me to take you, mark you as _mine_ for all time?" 

 

And here he began to withdraw from Lugnut, making him whine, oh, that deep, rumbling vocalizer was capable of whining like a needy femme! Razorwind would have teased him about it if she wasn't so busy doing the same.

"My Lord Megatron! Oh... please I need it.. you.. I beg you, take me!" Lugnut begged, frame wracked with longing.. venting in shudders, flushed energon staining him even darker purple and green.

Megatron's optics went from aroused to downright predatory. " _Then hail your Lord as I overload you.. my Lugnut... Decepticon."_

 

And the memory absolutely exploded. Megatron was thrusting again, deeper than before, was that even possible? Lugnut began to overload... hard, valve clenching all over Megatron's spike, white streaking all five of his optics, bending the memory around in Razorwind's processor. She screamed herself, as something hot, very hot, pressed into Lugnut's chest, searing him and Razorwind and making them both blank out... the last thing she could sense in the fading memory was Lugnut, half chanting, half sobbing, vocalizer unsteady from all the screaming... "Hail Megatron... Hail.. Megatron.. All.. Hail... Megatron!" 

 

With a click, Lugnut disconnected them, collapsing Razorwind's consciousness within the confines of its own processor once more. She shivered at the loss of sensation, clinging to wisps, memory echoes, wanting more. She glanced up at Lugnut and for the first time, her visor retracted, slipping back into her helm and revealing a pair of blazing white, factionless optics. "Oh... Lugnut.." she moaned, rubbing her hips, pulling his attention where she wanted it. His leg was slippery from all her leaking lubricant and all she wanted was to feel him stretching her port the way Megatron had _his._ "Take me, frag me... I want it... _Need_ it.."

 

But Lugnut shook his head, slowly, seriously. "No. I cannot. I know you have never interfaced.." he began, and Razorwind blushed, wondering just how much Lugnut had been delving into her processor while he played that memory for her. "Demonstrate your loyalty... by offering your seal, your first interface to Lord Megatron," he ordered sternly. 

 

"Mmmhm.." she had to reluctantly agree.. it did seem like the right thing to do. "But.. I'm still.. this is too much charge..."

 

"I can help you with _that_ ," Lugnut assured, sitting up, shifting Razorwind back so that her legs fell open over his. His pincer teased at the leaking valve, and the moment they connected he heard a different clicking sound... a secondary port!

She definitely _was_ a rare frametype. Most femmes, in fact, most mechs, most Cybertronians, had a spike/valve configuration, one of each, but some protoforms turned into Cybertronian bodies with different combinations. The age old saying was that _the spark knows what it likes best_ , and that it configures the protoform accordingly...

Lugnut opened his pincer a bit wider. On a minibot... it was easy to tease both ports, one with each half of the pincer. He was careful not to push very far at all, just enough to light up all the exterior sensors... he used his other pincer to hold Razorwind back, preventing her from thrusting onto him.

"L-Lugnut! Not enough! I need more..." Razorwind sobbed, trembling, spread open, slightly sticky lubricant coating each half of his pincer... oh, she looked so fragged, he really wished he could take her. 

 

"Mmm, I have an idea, pretty Knight.." Lugnut purred, knowing what he'd have to do. Pulling out of her ports, he withdrew his pincer into his arm, swapping it out for his Punch. Charging it up to its most minimal register, far too low to detonate, he pressed it between her legs and was rewarded with an instant howl of pleasure.

"Aaaaaah!! Lugnut!" Razorwind thrashed around him, rushes of vibration and energy transferring into her. "Ah.. Ah... Ah!!" she moaned and gasped, pushing onto that pulsing Punch for as long as she could take the intensity, then pulling away, making herself stutter-scream in pure ecstasy. Eventually, Razorwind found herself able to withstand being constantly exposed to the pulses, and ground her hips down onto Lugnut, curling up and dragging all her external sensors over it... "Frag yes.." she hissed, feeling an overload starting...

 

And Lugnut rubbed his Punch along with Razorwind's hips, pushing in as she did, giving her the contact she wanted... until he could feel both of those hot valves start to clench.. and Lugnut bent inward, wrapping his mouthplate around one of her wingtips and that was all it took.

She squealed, unashamed, all high pitch and static, and fell back in a heap of fragged femme, twitching and moaning and both ports quivering, fluids streaming out of them to run over his legs and the berth. Shortly after that, Razorwind offlined for a deep recharge.. and Lugnut decided.. he'd clean up later.. pulling her to his chest, snuggling her in for their final night.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think.. writing an OC that you don't want people to hate is hard.  
> By the way, isn't a Luggy a sweetspark? Mech needs more love. Also--he is not a cyclops.
> 
> For reading Chapter One, I will gift you with the Law of Creating Effortless Cybertronian Names.  
> Pokemon Attack with Spaces - Spaces = Name
> 
> You're welcome.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always thought that the way a sparkbond functions would vary based on the sparks it contained. This chapter explores that concept a little.. as will the rest of the story.

Razorwind woke to the feeling of gentle mouthplates, nuzzling at her helm.

"We have arrived.." Lugnut's gruff vocalizer still managed to whisper, into her audio receptor. "I've already established contact with my Team. We are fortunate indeed, we have a plan for reaching The Nemesis, and the rest of the Decepticon forces."

"I look forward to meeting them.." Razorwind spoke, still a bit hazy as she slowly sat upright on the berth. She'd been cleaned up, and Lugnut was standing before her, leaning over.. that explained the chill she felt.. he'd been up for some time now.

"Here," Lugnut offered, holding out a small energon cube, minibot sized and very carefully gripped between two massive pincers. The young knight smiled at the sight.. but paused after accepting the offer.. taking a few long sips, still thinking about everything. Decepticon forces.. towering battle-mechs much like Lugnut... and she was a lot more like, well... she glanced down at her minicube and took another sip.

"I understand why you are nervous," Lugnut began, wanting to reassure. "Decepticons are fearsome, that is our intention. But it is not directed at you. Once you establish yourself as a servant of Megatron--you will have earned the respect of all those.. _worth impressing,"_ Lugnut paused for a moment, before continuing... "I know a loyal spark when I see one. You will be a proud Decepticon."

"Heh.. you mean you know a loyal spark when you _overload_ one..." Razorwind smirked, wanting to lighten the mood, leaping to her feet off the berth, a bit of warmth starting to circulate within her.

"...that too.. you little imp."

\---

 

"Lugnut! Primus--you weren't kidding.. a real Ancient starship..." Strika's steady voice called as she approached, the rest of Team Chaar following behind, all taking in their own observations. "And along with it, an Ancient Cybertronian.. this is quite the find."

Razorwind stood just a bit straighter. First impressions and all. "I am Razorwind, Knight-Seeker, and hopeful recruit, Space General. My ship, _The Pride of the Skies III_ , is my initial offering to the Decepticon cause." She tried her best not to crane upward _too_ much but to say Strika was huge in comparison would have been an understatement. Her internal database didn't even _contain_ specs on femmes of that frametype. War had definitely changed the Cybertronian race... though perhaps for the better. It was rare for a femme to be in charge of... anything, on the Cybertron she knew.

"Your donation to the cause will definitely put you in our Lord's favor, recruit--it has already gained you mine. And Lugnut is an excellent judge of character... at least, _most_ of the time," Strika seemed to joke at the end, catching Lugnut's optics. "Speaking of that... we need to talk, Lugnut. Blackout, Spittor--get the ship's energon lines hooked up to the base. Oil Slick, I want you to see about getting the space bridge online. In the meantime, Cyclonus, attend the recruit. I will not be long."

Everyone started to mobilize into action, and Razorwind couldn't help but feel awkward as Lugnut and Strika disappeared into the base.. at least until a cool voice interrupted her thoughts. "Knight-Seekers were thought to have perished completely, yet you live. For now."

This Cyclonus.. was also a Seeker, though a warframe, and obviously equipped for blade combat, two swords resting at his hips. Razorwind remembered for a moment.. she was also equipped with blade combat programming, in fact she was proficient in several armaments, blades, shields, lances, but her weapons had not been deemed necessary for _The Pride's_ mission and had not been approved. But these Decepticons, were warriors... "Your swords are quite elegant, Cyclonus. Soon, I must regain my own."

"All things are eventually lost. Blades are amongst all things. Regain your blades if you wish but in time, you will lose them again," he spoke, gravely, optics somewhat distant. As if he realized the effect of his words, Cyclonus revised, "It is not my intention to dissuade you from the Decepticon cause, recruit. I merely remind that you must be... prepared."

"I thank you.. for the advice, Cyclonus.." Razorwind shuffled as she replied, not entirely sure what to make of the odd mech. His energy field, faint as it was, gave off a strange version of the the Seeker signals she was familiar with. What was supposed to be a reassuring sense of _wingmate_ _is near,_ felt.. stretched, wearied. Whatever troubled his spark ran deep, that was to be certain.

"Oil Slick to Cyclonus," a voice came through on a nearby communication terminal, thankfully interrupting the silence, "Could you bring the recuit to the lab?

"Certainly," Cyclonus replied, and then indicated for Razorwind to follow, as they entered the base.

\---

 

Which was a lot more like an underground fortress, to Razorwind's optics. They winded through halls clearly designed for giants, but despite this, she did her best to formulate an exact map of the interior. She would _not_ have anyone leading her around a second time.

The lab made itself apparent long before they reached it, a green glow casting out from within. Once inside, it was evident as to why, massive containment tubes of varying chemicals sprawled from floor to ceiling. Chemical weaponry.. no doubt.. such things had been outright banned from even being researched on Cybertron, in fact, Razorwind knew that one of the Knight Orders had been founded with the purpose of eliminating the results of such dangerous research. Combat was intended to be honorable.. and honorable combat was carried out blade to blade, and not through poisoning your opponent.. or worse. And some of the compounds out there, were certainly in the category of.. _worse_. Though _out there_ was probably not the right choice of words... Razorwind had a feeling that those exact compounds were in this very room.

Oil Slick was a dangerous looking mech, his face completely submerged in some kind of.. fluid, perhaps protective in nature, though Razorwind had no idea, and wasn't exactly inclined to ask. He was standing with a vial in hand, containing the familiar purple glow of refined energon, and slowly connecting it to what appeared to be a very.. small version of a space bridge.

"I'm sure you're wondering if this thing even works, recruit.. and my only answer is that so far in testing, it has not shown signs that it _wouldn't_ \--if powered by the correct amount of energon. Which until you arrived, we did not have."

Cyclonus had lost interest in the exchange nearly as soon as it started, excusing himself from the room, leaving the young knight with the scientist, and her questions, "So you will drain the fuel from my.. our ship, and use it to power an experimental space bridge.. possibly. What is your plan for failure?"

"At the worst, a malfunction would deactivate the bridge without incident.. in all likelihood.." Oil Slick finished his connections, watching as the tiny gold spires of the device started to resonate.. before turning away from them to face Razorwind.. "That is all that can be anticipated. However, what I never could have anticipated was meeting an Ancient Cybertronian," he swiftly altered the subject, "Do you have any idea what kind of compounds are lingering on your plating? Formulas have been modified over the millennia, with only a few samples I could gain so much insight into why we are manufactured as we are today.. and what mistakes may have been made, along the way..." Even through the fluid, Razorwind could clearly see a gleam in Oil Slick's optics.

"I would prefer not to be an experiment," Razorwind stepped backward suddenly, wings flaring, "Besides, what I have learned of the Decepticons is that there is no greater force when it comes to direct combat. I will serve in that manner."

"Ah, my dear.." Oil Slick began, smirking to himself, backing away from the minibot, no longer threatening. He took a seat nearby, crossing his legs over the other, perhaps intentionally giving Razorwind a good look at how _expertly_ crafted they were. "You'll find that there are _differences_ , between Lugnut's glorifications, and the _actuality_ of the Decepticons. This planet isn't exactly a paradise, is it? Undefeated champions of open combat will only get you so far. The Autobots stopped fighting fair one day--when they built the Omega Sentinels, and nearly wiped us out. And ever since then, my services have only become _more_ important."

"What are these Omega Sentinels, exactly? I was told of them, by Lugnut, but only while referencing how they had fallen at the hands of the Heavy Brigade."

The seated mech raised an optic ridge. "Leave it to Luggy to not explain the whole thing. What I know is this--the Autobots were facing defeat. There was simply no way their pathetic Elite Guard could have hung on much longer. So they put all their remaining resources into developing these massive war machines, pure brutes with simple processors. You're a minibot, you think the warframes are big, imagine a mech that makes a warframe look like... you," he jabbed a sharp, indicating claw, "And these things were _pure destruction_. Until Megatron formed the Brigade, battles stopped being battles, they were massacres. And what made it even worse, was the Autobots purposefully designed them with simpleminded processors. They were perfectly content with slaughtering Decepticons who weren't combatants. Medics, bases full of wounded, even planets that had merely chosen to ally with Megatron, and hadn't sent a single mech into battle--were wiped out by these things. All they knew was Autobots good, Decepticons bad."

Razorwind simply stared, thankful for her visor, which was obscuring her shocked expression, at least somewhat. The Autobots represented the Senate that had ruled Cybertron, at least, their principles. The same ones who founded the Knight Orders... yet at every turn, they were made to be corrupt at the least--and _monsters_ at the worst. While her Knight programming always made her options clear-- _fight for your leaders, burn against injustice, detest dishonor, achieve victory with grace..._ and so on, throughout all the lines of code within.. she couldn't help but feel conflicted. Her core _being_ was created by mechs whose actions indicated they didn't understand the Knights they had created.

"Sinking in, isn't it?" Oil Slick spoke, gesturing smoothly at the air... "The way I see it, whenever I rust an Autobot or two, I'm making some of my old friends who were slagged while they slept on their medical berths, feel just a bit better. I won't demand you give me a compound sample, but Megatron might... And Decepticons, follow the orders of Megatron. Honorable, or not. This is war, knight-seeker."

Her processor lingering somewhere between even more dedicated and greatly unsettled, Razorwind decided her best course of action would be to get out of this lab. "I will consider what you've told me, Oil Slick.." _More than I want to, most likely._

The scientist simply nodded, turning his attention back to the space bridge.

\---

 

Without her guide, Razorwind was limited to backtracking pathways she'd already been down, not wanting to end up anywhere she shouldn't be. Luckily, she and Cyclonus had already passed the room where Lugnut and Strika were conversing, she had seen them on their way to the lab.

She approached it slowly, not wanting to intrude, though neither of them had a quiet vocalizer exactly, and their exchange muffled the tiny pry of the door.

"Are you certain that you scanned it thoroughly!" Lugnut exclaimed, laying his pincer down heavily on the table between them, a table with what appeared to be a map of certain sectors of space on it.

"Yes, Lugnut. This was for you, of course I did my best. His spark signature was nowhere to be detected. If he survived... he's drifting out there, just like you were..."

Lugnut's massive shoulders sagged, and Razorwind realized that.. this was the first time she'd ever seen Lugnut look _sad_ before. However, he perked somewhat when Strika crossed the table over to him, resting a comforting hand on his hip, before leaning in, _laying a kiss on his mouthplates?_ "I should be jealous--you're always running off with other bots, triple changers, mini seekers..."

"You are my bondmate, Strika.. you will always come first.. but we have been separted for ages and..."

"You loved him, Luggy. I know you did..." she purred against the side of his face, soothing.. "You know you're free to do what you wish, I still feel your spark just like I always did. Primus knows I've had my share of lovers myself. And lost just as many... Carry Blitzwing's memory with honor and _fight for him_."

Sensing this was not an appropriate moment to approach, Razorwind attempted to back away silently, however now that the pair within had stilled, Lugnut easily caught the motion with his secondary optics. "Razorwind..." Lugnut began, not sure how much she had heard.

"If it can help at all, you know you may use my ship to search for your lost companion..." she offered, "and I offer my apologies to you, Strika... I did not know Lugnut was a bonded mech.." Her programming sizzled with shame.. no Knight was to interfere in another's bond. Though it hadn't felt wrong, and the way they both seemed so.. _open_ to others..

"No no.." Strika crossed the room, startling Razorwind by taking her hand. She allowed herself to be lifted, placed on top of the table, so their optics could level. "You were never intruding. Our bond is old, and our sparks are both more dedicated to Megatron than anything else. When he ordered us to such different stations, we knew we would be separated--possibly forever. Lugnut and I agreed that service to the Decepticon cause was more important--our sparks do not hurt to be apart. But we do sometimes have the need to be close to another, as we all do... We are both in agreement, we love whoever calls to us, and we share with them what we can. Deactivation is never far in these times."

"I should have told you, that I was bonded, Razorwind.." Lugnut shifted so that he was opposite her on the table, encircling her in warm energy waves from the two warframes. "But I didn't want to make things more uncomfortable than they were. If you had refused to recharge with me, for fear of intrusion, that would have made transporting you here, _online_ , much more difficult than it needed to be. And it is as Strika says.. we both have taken many lovers--my Blitzwing being one of them, that _glitch_..." Lugnut's massive mouthplate cracked apart in what had to be his version of the 'smile that holds back the optic coolant'... it was clear in the tone of his voice.

"If you comforted my Lugnut's spark, then I thank you, Razorwind.. and not a bad choice, Luggy.." Strika poked at his chest from across the table, trying to lighten him up. "Such a _pretty_ knight," she added, before curling her lip components into a massive smirk. "Maybe this one, you can share..? If we all make it back to _The Nemesis_ , that is."

"Hmm..." Lugnut considered, that familiar rumble back in his chest, which was relieving to Razorwind, as she shifted to look up at his optics.. as they blinked down at her.. "Only if the _pretty knight_ is interested, " he completed, tracing a pincer gently down the side of her face.

Razorwind had to admit, she never thought... ever, that she would end up as lover to.. two warrior giants. And while both Lugnut and Strika had rather.. _rough_ , features, they both seemed to possess a gentleness to them that she could trust not to hurt her. The way their energy flowed warmly over her plating, felt good.. and with such big frames, there would be so much to climb on and play with.. not to mention, feel all over _every single sensor_... this was seeming like a better and better idea by the minute.. "Mmmhmm.." Razorwind replied, no longer exactly making words for her thoughts, simply sprawling into an embrace, wrapping her arms at Lugnut, never actually able to encircle him. She cant her helm lightly over her shoulder, looking at Strika, part for reaction, and part to tease--if the Space General really thought she was pretty, then she was going to show off... just a little.

"First, you'll have to get your insignia," Lugnut reminded, "Lord Megatron loves his recruits untouched..."

"A sealed femme, in this age... unheard of.." Strika gasped, lightly, "but I suppose it makes sense, considering your origin... Lugnut is right.. Lord Megatron will be _most pleased_. You're going to have a good initiation, recruit. I'm almost envious.. Luggy and I had already taken each other's seals by the time we joined. The honor of waiting, offering them to Megatron... was something we missed."

After this, it grew quiet, everyone retreating into their own processors, it seemed. _Initiation.._ interfacing with Megatron himself.. Lugnut's memories echoed yet again.. and a very audible _crackle_ of static ran down Razorwind's frame.

"Oh my, she's getting charged... We don't have time to overload right now. Get off her Luggy, let the little femme get some air in her vents!" Strika ordered, all business again, and Lugnut gently peeled Razorwind away from his chassis, despite her somewhat distant whine of complaint.. before she drifted back to reality. "We have a space bridge to connect, my knight. Let us put these pleasant fantasies aside for now."

"Blackout, Spittor! Are those lines hooked up yet!" Strika demanded into her com-link, and after a pause, answered the reply, "Good. And Oil Slick says he's ready on his end, transport the mini bridge to the safe room and begin the connection. Lugnut, recruit.. it's time to move."

\---

 

"Alright," Strika began, datapad in hand, addressing her troops, gathered around the mini bridge. "The process is simple. Upon activation of the space bridge, we will have to wait for it to stabilize before adding in more energy. Considering that this is a very small transwarp device, it will take quite a bit of energon and time to broaden the warp to the point where it can support an entire starship. That is why we're in this safe room, instead of aboard our new vessel. We will only connect the bridge's transwarp signature to the ship after we are _certain_ it can handle an object with that much mass. Oil Slick, you're in charge of increasing the power levels.. keep them steady, but increase slowly. Blackout, I want you to be ready to cut the power--if it threatens to explode."

The big mech known as Blackout nodded gruffly, and Oil Slick glided over to a control panel.. "Let's start with 1% of its capacity.." he mused, keying in a command.

The mini bridge sprung to life then, a blue bubble of energy appearing between the spires. It wavered, growing smaller and larger.. before finally settling on a size.. all while everyone present watched it carefully. "Stable at 1%. Next we'll try 5%..."

The bubble lashed violently out at the room, causing Razorwind to involuntarily flinch, though everyone had tensed.. still watching, still waiting.. the bubble shrank, bit by bit, seeming to grow smaller than its previously, stable state, before swelling outward, past the boundaries of the bridge's spires.. and starting a cycle of expanding and contracting, never staying still for long.

"It... it isn't stabilizing.." Oil Slick noted, frantically keying in commands on the panel. "If it won't stabilize at 5% there's no way we can increase it further without danger to the base.. and it certainly won't be able to support a starship."

Strika frowned... but kept a determined look on her face. "It's not enough to support the mass of any of us.. except.." and that determination fell upon Razorwind.

For a moment, the stunned knight-seeker wasn't sure what Strika was implying. "Wait.. you.."

"We haven't been able to contact _The Nemesis_ through standard channels. We know the ship is in the same location because the bridge can anchor to it--but just getting _something_ through to Lord Megatron would be better than nothing. Tell him our situation here and he _will_ devise a plan. I trust your ability to do this, recruit."

"As touching as your inspirations are, General, the bridge's instability will eventually cause it to shut down, and after that I have no guarantees it's coming back online. Recruit, approach the transwarp," Oil Slick directed, still frantically keying, likely doing what he could to keep the bridge open.

Making a swift series of additions to the datapad in her hand, Strika reached down and pressed it firmly into Razorwind's shaking grip. "Give this to whoever you encounter first. It will probably be Soundwave.. a faceless mech. He will bring you to Megatron."

Casting a frantic look at Lugnut, Razorwind met his optics, which were surprisingly calm. "Razorwind.. service to our Lord often requires separation, and _sacrifice_. When you are given the opportunity to brave these.. _adversities_ in order to demonstrate your devotion... you should meet them with eagerness.. and pride."

And that's when it was finally clear. This was her first real test. And a Knight would not waver.

"I will go forth with honor, Lugnut, Team Chaar. Until we meet again," Razorwind took a deep invent... shuttering her optics as she approached the space bridge. The blue energy bubble was _just_ big enough to surround her frame.. and with one more step...

\---

 

...she was in a dark place surrounded by glowing red visors.

"Ah!" she shouted, unable to hold back the startle of so many... what were these? All _staring_ at her. One of them was reaching down.

"No way..." it spoke, trying to take hold of her hand, but she scrabbled it away from it, leaping to her feet. The datapad clutched in the other hand, she remembered her duty.. "Soundwave. I'm looking for Soundwave."

And before anyone could answer, the crowd parted for... a faceless mech. Razorwind froze. When Strika had described him, she left out the 'incredibly, incredibly tall and sharp and intimidating' part.

He said nothing, merely pointed a claw and Razorwind quickly pushed the datapad out at it... "This is from General Strika, of Team Chaar. I was sent here from their base. They require assistance in reaching this ship, they are currently stranded in space."

Soundwave took the datapad, holding it up to his face for only a second, not enough time for any mech Razorwind had ever encountered to read the contents of... _anything_ , but then again he did not seem like any mech Razorwind had ever encountered. Nodding silently, he turned and began to leave.. and the knight-seeker assumed, she was to follow.

At first, the surrounding areas were entirely unfamiliar, it was dark and expansive, and full of constant shuffling feet, but eventually the pathways narrowed, and the sleek, purple lines from Lugnut's memories took over. Now this, was what she had expected.

They paused before a large door, bearing the insignia that Razorwind was so accustomed to seeing. Soundwave made no movements whatsoever, but seemed to be waiting... for the doors to suddenly slide open.

...and standing before them, was Megatron. The Megatron from the memories, from the stories, from the _legends!_

He was entirely calm. Visitors did not surprise him--nothing did. He simply arched an optic ridge, curious, and Soundwave handed him the datapad... he casually roved his glance over it, before finally speaking..

"Razorwind," and the minibot jumped, not expecting her name to be the first word out of the warlord's mouth. "Knight-Seeker, and newest recruit.. offered a starship to our cause, and personally commended by my Space General.."

"Y-yes! ...My Lord!" she quickly added, dropping to one knee as she had been reminded to do.

Megatron took a moment to.. bask in the quick submission.. _Lugnut's influence, no doubt._ A smile threatened at his fangs, but he suppressed it.. for now.

Razorwind couldn't see from her position, but that didn't stop her processor from going into overdrive. She was finally _here_ , this was finally _happening_. Her sparkbeat was racing... she barely heard the command given, but she registered _exactly_ what it meant.

"Soundwave... _dismissed_."

 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By reading Chapter Two, you have dramatically increased your chance of Blitzwing crash landing in your backyard. He will be bored and very hungry.  
> I hope you are prepared.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am possibly the biggest Megatron fangirl. As such, when given the opportunity to write smut about him and my own personal TF avatar...  
> This chapter happens.

He was _everywhere._

Megatron... _glorious_ Megatron, to use a description Lugnut often had, towered over Razorwind and _watched_ her, drinking in the reaction. She was still prone, still kneeling, still unable to look at him but the way her wings trembled told him everything. She didn't have to see him, she could feel him.

But he wanted to see her.

"Rise..." Megatron could purr and still _command_ , and Razorwind obeyed immediately, springing to her feet, raising her wings and her neck and trying to look as impressive as possible.

The silver warlord circled then, optics training in on frame and plating details.. "A Seeker.. Knight-Seeker..." he mused, and paused, taking a moment to touch what was already his, drawing a long claw over a wing and enjoying that sharp and barely stifled invent from his overheated recruit. "You have combat programming, yes? What weapons do you use..?"

"S-sword.." Razorwind began, trying to clear the haze out of her processor. Her wing was tingling all over... "Ah, a sword. And shield, my Lord. A lance would also suffice.."

"Weapons from a bygone era... When warriors were _warriors_ ," Megatron smiled, taking a moment to remember.. the pits of death he'd conquered, armed with only his blade and his will. "Respectable programming. I will be sure to provide you with weaponry to match it."

"I thank you, my--" but the thought was interrupted by another drag of a claw.. this time directly underneath her chin, tilting her helm up, up.. locking Razorwind's visor with Megatron's optics.. rings of wild heat, the thought was beyond interrupted, it was _lost_.

"You.. know, don't you..." Megatron smirked. He'd had many recruits over the years and the ones who _knew_ were always like this, so taken by his presence. He doubted the femme could hear how revved up she was, or how hard her fans were cycling. "How you're going to become one of _mine._ Who told you?"

"Lugnut.. showed me," Razorwind began, still unable to tear away from Megatron's claws and his gaze. "He showed me his memories.."

Oh... now that added a layer of depth to it. Megatron's smirk turned into a full-fanged grin. "So you've already experienced this--" and his claw wandered, each finger walking along the side of Razorwind's face, one slipping over her lips, the very tip sliding past and being eagerly welcomed, oh yes.. did she even _realize_ she was sucking so earnestly..? "--in a sense. I wonder, how many times have you replayed those memories? I wonder.. if you _overloaded_ to them?"

And Razorwind could have told him the full extent of the truth, that she _hadn't had the time_ but oh, if she did she _would have_ , she could have self-interfaced for _eternity_ waiting for this to finally happen but Megatron never intended for her to reply, because he was walking away _,_ no, leading, and it was all Razorwind could do to make her feet alternate in his direction. 

It wasn't far they had to go, a second set of doors were opening and closing and when they'd both crossed inside, Razorwind came to a stop next to Megatron, optics locked on a massive berth that could only have belonged to the warlord himself. Above it, the Decepticon insignia sat proudly, and next to it, was a rack of all manner of weaponry.. gleaming swords glittering in the purple light that characterized the Nemesis.. she could have almost forgotten why she was here and just admired them--but then Megatron was stepping past her, taking a seat on the berth, coming closer to her height.. and just.. staring.

He couldn't help but burn her like this, captivate her. Their sheer... size difference was bringing something playful out of him. Curling a beckoning claw, Megatron summoned Razorwind, watching her cross over the room, coming to settle between his legs. Leaning his helm downward, he took his first taste of the little seeker, immediately craving more of those soft, tiny lips, barely enough, tickling at his own and that was why he needed _more_. He dared to nip at them, scraping his fangs, never enough to bleed but enough to excite--feeling them swell as he kissed her again, and again.. _Oh Primus, so small and.. perfect.._ _I must have some kind of fetish I didn't know about._

Razorwind felt Megatron's massive, clawed hands trail down and wrap around her waist, pulling her effortlessly onto the berth, tumbling her down beside him, letting her fall into place at the head.. as her Lord loomed over her, all shadows, blocking out everything. She trembled as she took him in--where her body ended and his continued onward all the way down the berth and _then some_. 

Megatron's sharp, hungry lips were back on Razorwind.. biting at the side of her mouth, making her vent so quickly, his claws were tracing.. and he'd slid down enough to cover her with the upper half of his frame, bracing just enough weight elsewhere to pin her down and _not_ crush her. 

"Remove your visor.." Megatron ordered, and as soon as the retracting 'click' had sounded he pressed the smooth surfaces of his fingers, hidden beneath the claws, against her interface panel and watched her white optics blaze and flicker at the sensation. _"Oh... oh.."_

Megatron knew this was going to be... delicate. Minibot frames were designed to be capable of interfacing with larger frames... but only with copious amounts of preparation and what was considered a _large_ frame back in the Knight-Seeker times was probably not so large compared to today's warframes--and certainly not compared to _him_. And while he wanted to make the little femme scream, he wanted it to be for more--not mercy...

So he growled, low, into her audio.. hinting at everything to come without words, rubbing his fingers in wide circles around the hot panel, pausing to draw stripes down the center of it, _knowing_ the valve beneath was clenching in anticipation. Lubricant started to seep out of the seams, and those thin, white legs couldn't stop raising up the berth, spreading and twitching. One particular long stroke made Razorwind keen with pleasure and arch, and Megatron felt his spike _strain_ beneath its paneling. _This is a test of willpower to be sure._

_And I am failing._

"Open, mmm.." Another kiss. Another. " _Open for me.._ little seeker.." Megatron demanded and Razorwind's coverings slid away hastily. 

Now Megatron had been expecting to be greeted with a shiny-slick valve and a rapidly freed and pressurizing spike.. but instead, two of the former were revealed. An entirely input model... warmed up--there was no satisfying these frametypes. 

That was a challenge he was willing to accept. 

He'd start with the primary port.. testing the sensitivity he trailed the edge of a claw around it, ringing it, never pressing enough for it to be sharp, just.. light.. taking in Razorwind's invents.. he slipped a single claw inside just a bit--coating it in lubricant, gauging the limits of movement in all directions.. all while she was oblivious and moaning. That was, until his claw met a sudden obstacle and came to a stop, eliciting a wince from the squirming minibot beneath him. 

Who had just enough presence of mind to smile, innocently, wonderfully--remembering just what she'd wanted to say, and _how_.. "My seal is _yours_.. my Lord.. please take it."

A sudden ping informed Megatron that his interface panel _would very much like to open._

 _Not yet!_ He silenced the thoughts by shoving his fanged mouth back down onto Razorwind's.. she wasn't ready yet and he had more control than this! His glossa forced its way past her lips, despite force being unnecessary, and he ravaged through the kiss until static was snapping harshly between them. 

All the while his claws were stretching. A second, long finger joined the first, and they worked together to loosen the valve's walls as best they could, encourage the lubricant to flow.. gauge progress.. when he added a third Razorwind involuntarily whined at the combined thickness and Megatron did what he could to distract, nipping at her neck cabling. 

In time, the tight walls relaxed, slightly.. and the rubbing of the claws became pleasurable.. Razorwind ground down onto Megatron's fingers to feel more of them, and he splayed them apart when she stilled.. she was as ready as she could be. There was only so much preparation that could be done. At least, for this. _There was still one thing.._

Razorwind watched Megatron shift, straddling her, freeing the arm he was bracing on to reach.. over the berth.. gripping the metal insignia above it, and removing it from the wall. Afterward he leaned, momentarily freeing her from his gigantic shadow, letting the purple lights have a taste of her--until he pulled back into place, this time holding a.. cannon of some sort? Razorwind was unfamiliar with the exact details of the weapon but it looked thoroughly dangerous, especially once Megatron snapped the insignia into the barrel of the cannon, attached it to his arm, and proceeded to look down at her... with one predatory grin. 

Lugnut's memories hadn't managed to retain this particular detail.

_Always like to give them a few moments to worry about what's coming..._

Megatron finally heeded the pings at his processor, and slid open his interface panel.. his spike pressurizing outward with a loud hiss, enough to tear Razorwind's optics immediately away from his fusion cannon. Her lips parted with silent something.. glorifications, perhaps, or maybe she was _terrified_ \--but _nothing_ was going to stop her Lord's lust now, as he pushed her thighs apart and sank down between them, alignment intent.

The initial stretch, just to get around the _tip_ of that giant spike, had Razorwind whimpering, and Megatron soothed her the only way he could.. "Relax.. my dear.. I know you want all of me inside you.." 

And she'd nodded feverishly.. because it was true and because the movement was something else to process besides pain. 

It became a slow series of pushing and wincing and waiting.. Razorwind's valve adjusting outward tiny lengths every time Megatron made a deeper intrusion, using up every ounce of his patience and then some.. he'd never had anything so fragging _tight_ wrapped around him. Still, he waited.. he had to reach it...

The press of his spike bumped into the seal--and Razorwind bit her lip harder than any fangs had, to keep from wailing. Megatron didn't bother to hide the sheer excitement in his optics as he turned them down to his femme, warning her.. "This.. will hurt." _Hurt so beautifully. Show me._

With one harsh snap of his hips Megatron tore through that thin layer of metal, ripping the seal apart and burying his spike completely in Razorwind's port, and no amount of biting could hold back the scream that filled the room, possibly the _Nemesis_.

"Yesss..." and Megatron hissed, hungrily, covering up the sound of Razorwind's sobbing vocalizer.. he'd been gentle enough, and now it was time to enjoy this. 

His pace was even, steady at first.. too quick, too hard, and he really did risk breaking her--something not even his most lustful simulations were envisioning. He didn't pull back far at all, not wanting to leave that hot clench all over for a _moment_. 

Razorwind was... doing her best, she knew it would hurt and she'd been mentally prepared she thought, but none of that was keeping her from feeling like she was one hard thrust away from being split down the center. But she would adjust in time.. if she just held on.. she rocked along with Megatron and let her whimpers punctuate his thrusting, relaxing.. Eventually...

"Oh..." Razorwind's pain sensors had quieted down enough to allow her to feel Megatron's spike slide over a cluster of _pleasure_ receptors toward the front of her valve. She exvented in a huff of rushing air.. as Megatron caught her actions and followed their instruction, sliding again, deliberate and heavy and.. _"Oh yes.."_

"Like that?" came the growl, the silver giant's voice was up there, distant, and Razorwind just pushed her hips back down and tightened. 

Megatron felt himself starting to slide.. the new sensations of pleasure he was creating had finally reached the valve's lubrication system, and it was responding accordingly. _Good.._ He was pulling out quite a bit now, ramming back in, grasping one clawed hand around Razorwind's shoulder, pulling upward, to keep from bashing the back of her helm into the berth.. and the other was digging a set of claw-marks into his wall that he couldn't be bothered to care about right now.. "Ungh..." Megatron caught _himself_ groaning and smiled.. he'd never had a frag like this. Not even when Starscream was young and naive and adoring. _I think all my future recruits will be minibots._

Of course, as much as he would have loved to lose himself in the utter ecstasy that was fragging this little seeker... this was an _initiation_ , after all. There was an underlying task to be accomplished. He took note of his cannon's charge.. it was tuned to his overload charge and it was getting closer, a warm purple glow filling the barrel, illuminating the insignia within, heating it.

Razorwind wasn't just getting closer--she was almost there. Her heeled feet were planting on the berth, her legs had drawn up so far in their effort to get out of Megatron's way so he could push deeper into her valve. Her fingers were scraping at the smooth metal, anything she could hold onto.. her optics were flashing and her vocalizer was spitting static through every moan.. She was so full of Megatron's thick spike, stretching along sensors that were already overloaded, sending confused messages all throughout her frame. There was no way she could take much more of this, her spark was beating rapidly and pulses of energy were steadily running between it and her port.. soon they would overwhelm each other. 

So that's when Megatron stopped thrusting. 

The wrenching, frustrated sound of a mini-femme held back from overload filled Megatron's audios and he couldn't help but be _delighted_. "Can't get enough of me..? But first, you must pledge..."

And here he drew back completely.. and Razorwind remembered there _was_ a purpose to this besides being wonderfully fragged. 

And looking wonderfully fragged. Megatron couldn't help but be distracted by the flush of energon that so _easily_ stained white plating from beneath, tinging her with purple even more than the lights could provide. "Do you swear... Razorwind.." he'd hunched over, taking those lips yet again, her sweet taste ringing on his glossa as he continued, "to serve me faithfully as long as you function..?"

She'd tried to pull him back down, not strong enough but Megatron obliged, letting her tiny hands find their ways into gaps in his armor. "Yes!" she gasped, so needy.. "Yes.. my Lord.. yes!" Clinging to his broad chest, Razorwind shivered with _everything_ and tried to melt into Megatron. 

A clawed hand wrapped around her helm. _I'll hold you, my dear. Primus, this little femme. I've never been so.. soft._ "Do you want this gift, Razorwind? Do you want me to take you, mark you as _mine._.. for all time?" 

Shivers and frantic nods and kisses flurrying over the insignia on his chest... None of them were words and he couldn't allow them to suffice, not this time. He pushed her back down to the berth, giving the minibot time to reset her vocalizer and brace for what was to come.. 

"My Lord.. Megatron.. please.." Razorwind spread her legs again, letting that perfect little port do most of the beckoning, laying herself prone and open and begging with her frame.. and her words. _"Frag me.."_

The arc of light that danced out of Megatron's pelvic armor and crackled along his spike was response enough. "Oh.. Razorwind.." _You've got me sparking so hard.._ "I have a feeling.. you'll be one of my.. finest recruits. _Now..."_

And he plunged back into her valve all in one thrust--giving all those overstimulated sensors what they'd needed so badly. Razorwind started to shriek, but Megatron placed a claw over her lips, ordering silence as he glared downward, entirely serious. _"Hail your Lord... as I overload you.. my Razorwind... Decepticon!"_ he roared and then started a new rhythm, this one quick and deep and too much to be resisted any longer. Razorwind's vocalizer broke into high pitched _squeaking_ and she overloaded, her port clutching at Megatron's spike and holding him in place, so tightly he _couldn't_ pull back. 

But even through all the sensation that was her first interface overload.. Razorwind wouldn't forget. "H-hail.. Megatron.." her weakened vocalizer managed, before growing stronger, dutiful, her Knight programming restructuring itself with each word, writing lines of code that determined that indeed, Megatron was her Lord. "Hail Megatron!" she cried again, her port spasming, a gush of lubricant leaking all around a hot, pulsing spike.. "All Hail.. MEGATRON!" she screamed with shock as Megatron was stirred into action, thrusting again, intent on reaching his peak.. it didn't take much. The last time he'd been this turned on was...

 _"Oh... yes.. my.. little.. unn.."_ his vocalizer was husky with static and desire, and his entire cannon arm was buzzing with power... the fusion cannon had charged to its maximum level without discharging, the bright barrel shining out around a white-hot insignia. He took it by the handle, ignoring how much that should have burned, the cannon was deactivated, tossed to the floor--nothing could distract him from _this._ He pushed in one last time, charges crackling, overheat warnings everywhere--and he overloaded, _Primus_ he overloaded, and shoved the branding insignia down into that arching white chest and pushed.. punching downward as his frame locked upward and he groaned... fluids bursting from his spike and quickly reaching the capacity of that _tiny_ valve, he surely had more in his tank than she could take.. _ever_ , and so he pulled out and coated her down with the rest, nearly everywhere but where he'd planted that brand... "Ohh.. ah.." and he dragged his overstimulated spike over the leaking, quivering valve of a very _knocked-out_ Razorwind.. 

Still.. a secondary charge was already growing within him... they _would_ be going again.

He held the brand down, until it was cold... and then _waited._

\---

 

When Razorwind came back online, it was to the feeling of a somewhat sore spot on her chest.. Her optics finally started to function again and she saw Megatron.. Lord of the Decepticons, her Lord.. curled around her, kissing and licking at his handiwork, claws teasing into her plating, lighting up her sensornet.. his energy field was flared and hot and it was obvious what he wanted. 

She stared down at the sharp, purple symbol and felt a sense of pride. At last.. she had joined the ranks of these grand warriors. "I thank you.. my Lord.. for this honor," she spoke, catching his optics, keeping them locked with hers even as he shifted on the berth, sitting up. 

"Yes... You are indeed one of _mine_.. my Decepticons.. but there is still more you have to give me, my dear.." Megatron purred, pulling at Razorwind, shifting her into his lap.. but facing away from him. He took one of her wingtips into his mouth and sucked on it, wantonly, no longer caring about appearances or initiations or anything so much as wanting to see a little seeker tremble and moan for him. She was seated right above his spike, which was yet again pressurized and hot and very large compared to the space between her legs.. without realizing she was rocking over it, wanting to feel it sliding on her sensors.. her panel had never closed and her ports were still slick and warmed.. _"Mmmm.."_

"I want your second seal.." Megatron whispered into Razorwind's audio as he dragged his lips over it, on the way to her other side, her other wing. He rolled his hips to augment his declaration and Razorwind felt so.. mmm, good and fragged and pleased, that she just tilted her helm back, letting her lips fall open. "Take it.." 

Megatron seized her hips and lifted Razorwind up, and she pushed off him, suspending herself in the air just long enough for those giant hands to line them up. This time neither of them had the patience to prepare.. and both were swimming too deeply in post-overload bliss to care. _If something breaks, that's why we have a damned medic._

The breach was rough, and slowed _itself_ down even as the two participants wanted things faster. The valve simply didn't open far enough at first--the searing stretch made Razorwind howl with blurred pain and pleasure and she pushed down as Megatron pushed up but they still sank together _slowly_. They both needed a distraction. Megatron was perhaps too quick to find one.. he _caught_ himself licking Razorwind's wings, outlining them with his glossa and looking to all the world like some kind of seeker-worshipping fool. _It's a good thing no one else saw that. Except Soundwave. Hmm.. I bet he's been loving this._

Breaking out of his thoughts, Megatron took to wandering his claws again.. this time down Razorwind's front, pausing as he pushed just a bit more inside her. "Hmm.." he rumbled.. feeling, verifying.. thrusting upward again. "Oh.. do you feel that.. Razorwind..?" he asked, pure sinful heat possessing his vocalizer, as he pressed his hand flat against her lower plating and gripped it.. "Your frame warps to accommodate me. I can.. _feel_ my spike inside of you.."

And that's when Razorwind moaned _hard_ and slipped down the rest of the length--right to the seal. 

Megatron had no patience--he bucked upward and ripped through the thin metal blocking his path, _scraping_ sensors never before touched, making Razorwind gasp and cry.. it _hurt_ and she needed more. Knowing what to expect this time.. accelerated the stages.. she was impatient for it to start feeling _good_ , she didn't care about the pain. All on her own, Razorwind was sliding, grinding that sweet little aft up and down on Megatron's spike, _calling_ for him, sounds tumbling from her vocalizer all in time to each drop of her hips.

 _Frag. So good._ Megatron thrust upward, throwing his own force into Razorwind's frantic bouncing, gritting his fangs together and hissing as his spike was clenched, he let his helm fall backward, posture lost, letting everything go but the sensation of the interfacing. 

It continued like this, for some time, the rocking clang of their frames meshing, the sticky sound of a loosened valve sucking at a hungry spike.. until finally neither of them could hold--Razorwind was first to crash. 

_"Ah...!"_ she arched and screamed and Megatron wasn't far behind, biting down into her wing, muffling what would have been a shout to Primus himself. Gripping her thighs with his claws, he pulled Razorwind all the way down.

He held her on his spike until he was empty.

...and then _waited._

\---

 

When Razorwind finally onlined.. she had the distinct, hazy feeling of.. having been out for some time.

And not being in the same place. 

This was _not_ Megatron's large, cozy berth, instead, this was a smaller.. heated.. a minibot berth.. but.. scanning around indicated.. 

"Yes, you are in the med bay, you can stop looking so confused now.." a rather calm, mocking tone wound its way from the side of the room. Belonging to a red and white mech who wore an amused expression on his face. "Come now, don't look at me like that. I'm the one who put you back together, after all... Knock Out, your medic."

 _Back together?_ "I am--"

"Razorwind, Megatron's newest recruit. I know _all_ about you. Probably literally at this point. By the time he carried you in here, your interface was practically falling apart. Oh, and you had... _fluids_ clogging just about everything you _really_ shouldn't clog. But I suppose that's what you get when you go on a three day fragging spree with Lord Megatron. I'm surprised you weren't more damaged, honestly. But hey.. don't _worry_. You're all fixed up now. Good as new, and just as _tight_... courtesy of my expertise in bodywork.." and here he started chuckling to himself, "which might not be such a good thing, if all it does is wind you up back.. here." 

Razorwind's faceplate burned with embarrassment.. had she really let herself be fragged to the point of damage? And for days!

"Relax, mini-seeker. Decepticons enjoy themselves. You enjoyed it.. that's all that matters. And Megatron--"

But Knock Out quickly snapped up, distracted. Razorwind turned her helm in the direction he was staring, as.. another Seeker.. strode into the med bay's door, leaning at the frame. 

"Well well.. if it isn't Megatron's newest _slut_ ," he hissed, and Razorwind was placed immediately on edge. Lugnut had _warned_ her about another Seeker, one who was disloyal to Megatron.. a _disgrace_ to the Decepticons. Was this..?

"I just came by to introduce myself.. I'd come by earlier but you were.. unavailable," he sneered, his lips curling into a frown. "Air Commander Starscream, _recruit_." he made sure to add as much disdain as his vocalizer could hold... though something _else_ was also at work here. For a few moments.. Razorwind could feel his field flare, it was so quick and strong, and yet Knock Out didn't seem to notice it at all, not even flinching as she felt pinned down by it. 

And it was _familiar_... a dominating presence that was both authority and guardian, and wholly inviting. For a moment she felt her processor slipping into old memories.. This mech was... a Winglord of Seekers.

A Winglord! Survived the destruction of Cybertron.. well of course, if anyone would it would be them, wouldn't it... the beloved lords of the seeker cities, and a part of why their particular species was so strong and had _survived_ despite living such dangerous lives.. they were the driving, mating force.. Winglords took as many mates as they desired and kept the population thriving, as all seekers had buried within their code, the desire to please and impress the Winglord. It was as much a part of them as _flight_ was. 

"My..." Starscream's frown shifted to a smile.. before he ceased his leaning on the door frame.. "You have some _old_ programming, don't you? But now's not the time to discuss that, is it? You still have some recovering to do. Until next time.. recruit.." he drifted out of sight, out of the door and down the hall...

And Razorwind burned with internal conflict. She had _chosen_ her Lord.. and that was Megatron. This Starscream was a traitor, a stain on the honor of the Decepticon race. And he set her on edge. His actions didn't have to be proven for Razorwind to know _she did not like him_. But there was a part of her, a part she was suddenly afraid of, that pulsed and called in reaction to his presence.

Knock Out, catching her disturbed expression, simply shrugged. "He likes to intimidate. You'll get used to him." 

_...I'm not sure.. I want to._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're an Autobot, you don't get anything for reading Chapter Three.  
> If you're a Decepticon, you get to run your fingers over your insignia and remember your initiation.
> 
> ...ah, good times.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. This chapter took FOREVER. hands still shaking.  
> if you read it, and you liked it, feedback would be appreciated ^_^

Rays of light were gleaming off the jagged spires of the city--Sedaver Vix, the home of the fire-hearted, of the free spirits, one of the many cities of Seekers surrounding their people's capitol, Vos.

Countless wings shared this space, but Razorwind only noticed her own, as she glided and rushed, the warm air making her feel lighter, as if she and the sky were all one being. There was nothing like flying for the sake of flying. How any could live on the ground and not know this...

A grand sweep of air buffeted into her, causing her to spin--she barely had time to transform before she was seized, seized by bright red hands much larger than her own. Her captor carried her effortlessly to the top of the nearest building, pinning her, looking playfully down into her visor.

"Winglord Blastburn.." she giggled, the abrupt tearing from the sky not being frightening but amusing. A common occurrence by this point. 

The Winglord lay atop her, all shining white with highlights of red, plates with imagery of fire, marking his lineage.. and making him stand out for miles, such a stark contrast of bold colors.. _stunning_. Razorwind would always have a weakness for white and red mechs. Heating with invitation, she smiled as the Winglord couldn't help but sink his hips down onto hers, rubbing their interface panels shamelessly.. as Lords of Seekers did not know or need shame.

"Windy.." he spoke, all fire, all _himself_ , "You know I want you as my mate..."

"Then take me, Winglord. I am already yours," Razorwind pledged, knowing it to be truth. She would be honored to accept him. 

He merely shook his head... before dipping down, nuzzling at her cheek with his lips.. "No.. to have you and lose you would only drive me insane. I know you leave for your Knight's training tomorrow, and when next I will see you, I cannot anticipate."

Venting a sigh, she knew he was right.

"It is a great thing you're doing, both for yourself, and this city. You and Rockwrecker will bring fame and glory to us. You are but Initiates now, but soon you will be true Knights off to weave your own legends. I cannot wait to hear of them," Blastburn smiled sincerely, as he pulled back, letting some air between them, dispelling a small part of his lust... a small part. "But remember, when you return.. I will be waiting for you. And my offer still stands."

"And I will still accept it," Razorwind confirmed, and Blastburn couldn't help but embrace her once more.. taking up slowly rocking his hips, wanting more than he'd allow, doing what he could. He whispered to her, seductive, playful.. "I'll be sure to mate Rockwrecker too. Big, grim-faced mech looks like he needs a good frag. And I bet he's untouched. How _tight_ do you think his valve is? That steady, deep voice of his.. I bet I could make it _sing_..."

"Winglord!" Razorwind exclaimed, not entirely wanting to process those _kinds_ of thoughts about her fellow Initiate. 

"What?" He asked, optic ridges raised. "It's my duty to mate as many of you as I wish, no? Why do you think so many of the seekerlets have white plating..?"

... here Razorwind paused, involuntarily glancing down at her _own_ white plating.

"You know what, forget I said that." 

"I think I will."

And they settled back into each other.. still, thoughtless.. warming in the sun.

\---

"Mmm.." she rolled gently on the berth, grasping at nothing just a bit tighter, basking in the heat that came not from the sun, but from the berth's heating system. Until everything was interrupted by a pinging sound echoing within her head.

Razorwind awakened slowly, taking a moment, looking around.. _The Nemesis_ , not Cybertron. Because Cybertron is no more.

"Yes?" she answered the insistent comlink, listening for a reply.

"Razorwind. You are to report to Sector 5 immediately for a mission," an unfamiliar voice ordered, before ending the call abruptly. 

Without so much as a chance to confirm, Razorwind dropped to her feet out of the berth, seized and emptied the contents of a minicube she'd set out the night before.. and made her way through the ship's extensive layout to this Sector 5... which she had never visited before.

It wasn't difficult to locate, in actuality not far from the med bay which she was quite familiar with at this point. What she was unfamiliar with, was dealing directly with Soundwave, which is what it appeared she would be doing, as she crossed the wide double doors into a small room with a few terminals, two drones, of which she had learned there were _many,_ and Soundwave himself. 

The tall mech had... _tentacles_ , which was a rare trait she had only heard stories of in her days on Cybertron. Stories partly intriguing, and partly terrifying--about mechs that developed deep underground, without sight and without voice and whose only sense was _touch_. Touch that was so refined and powerful that it _replaced_ their other senses, they could feel _everything_ , feel sights and sounds and even _thoughts_. And while she dared not ask Soundwave if he was one such mech, she had her suspicions. 

The black appendages were out, some on the terminal and some literally just waving about in the air, though what seemed to only be meaningless waving was likely not. But where Razorwind's attention was focused was upon the series of tentacles that ran between Soundwave and one of the drones, a wheeled model, these were the _Vehicons,_ she had been instructed. The two appeared to be linked, and Razorwind couldn't help but jump when Soundwave turned toward her, posture, down to the very head motion, as if he was going to _speak_ to her, but instead the drone's visor lit and the words came from _his_ vocalizer.. "Razorwind. Lord Megatron has devised a plan to recover Team Chaar. He has given me the task of preparing you for your part in it."

"Ah.. of course," it didn't matter how he was doing it, what he was saying was important. "Tell me what I must do."

"A formula for synthetic energon is possessed by the Autobots. This is a variant of energon that can be produced using fairly common materials, and is, as a fuel source, radically more powerful and efficient than standard energon. It has the side effect of producing processor instability in Cybertronians, but when used on unsparked machines, performs perfectly. This is believed to occur because the formula is incomplete. Regardless, Lord Megatron believes it may be the key to powering Team Chaar's spacebridge to a capacity enough to support all of them, and perhaps even... your ship along with them," Soundwave explained, gesturing as he did so, while his Vehicon did all the speaking. "We have obtained a sample of synthetic energon but we cannot reverse engineer it from this, as the sample is tainted, and too small. But with your arrival, we now have a pathway to obtaining the formula directly from the Autobot who possesses it."

"You wish me to infiltrate the Autobots?" Razorwind questioned, knowing that she was not exactly.. trained for this sort of mission.

"They are trusting and kind--they are weak. You are unknown to them, and if you were placed in a situation of.. vulnerability, it is certain that they would bring you to their base. The one that possesses the formula is their medic, and the formula lies within his processor. A simple hack can extract it, and using you as a vessel, I can easily infect him with the proper virus to make this extraction."

"How would you do this?" The plan wasn't making itself any clearer to Razorwind.

"If you were to be... attacked by our flyers.. our Eradicons.. infected with a virus by them, for clearly malicious intent, and then _rescued_ by the Autobots, who observed that you were in need of help.. they would deliver you to their medic, and he would offer to uplink you, patch you to disable the virus. The standard medical procedure. I will include extra.. stealth code that will transfer into him and seize the formula. Because we have studied a sample, we know what its general structure must be.. as such I will be able to locate which part of the many lines of code make up his thoughts is the one containing the formula within.. nanoseconds. It will then transfer back to you, and he will have noticed.. nothing. After you are cured, you will escape from the Autobot base however you can. The base is very likely covered in sensors that will detect Decepticon communications. You must escape it before you can be recovered. You must succeed in order to return."

Now there was a concept Razorwind was familiar with. All Knights were sworn to complete their missions, and to return a failure was to face being stripped of all titles and rank. If this was to truly be her first mission, she knew that her new home would be on the line. 

But how could she fail? This was for Team Chaar, for _Lugnut_. _And I want to see them again._

"I can do this, Soundwave. I will recover the formula," she affirmed, still not entirely sure whether to look at the face speaking the words or the one actually thinking the words. She settled for uneasily wandering between both.

"You will have to wear a replacement chest piece, that Knock Out has already crafted for you. It will not be as durable as your original, but your insignia must not be displayed. Unfortunately we do not have the materials to fashion replacement optics, so you will have to ensure your visor is locked in place at all times," Soundwave finished the sentence by trailing one long tentacle behind him, seeming to be grasping for something.

"What do you mean, replacement optics--" Razorwind started to ask, before Soundwave produced a crystal slab polished to mirror finish. She retracted her visor at once, being greeted with.. a flash of red. 

"The branding affects our core programming, making specific edits to align us with our faction. Installing the ability to communicate on Decepticon channels and permanently changing the color of your optic lenses. This cannot be undone, only replaced. Your vision has been automatically correcting your colors--you should have been told of the changes. I believe Lord Megatron must have been too.. busy to inform you," there was almost a hint of amusement in that last statement. _Almost._.. "You will not have to take many steps to protect your identity--the Autobots will not interrogate you. Their medic will not probe your thoughts, and the only details they learn about you will be those you wish to share. Share only what will gain their trust, understood?"

"Of course," Razorwind nodded, and Soundwave extended a clawed fingertip at the second drone in the room, the winged one who stood just a bit straighter upon realizing she was looking at him.

"This is LAN-c3R. Aerial specialist and leader of a small team of Eradicons. He personally requested to take this assignment. It will be his team that conducts the staged attack. It will have to be convincing, so they will be armed with actual weapons and it is your responsibility to not be damaged. You will put your evasive skills to the test, as you are not to be hit, and grounded, until the Autobot ground bridge is detected. The next stage of their attack must be done while the Autobots can _see_ them," and Soundwave drew back his claw, letting it come to a comfortable rest within the other, long fingers twisting together as if he were savoring the idea.

"It is an honor, my lady. You may not remember, but you basically landed at my feet, when you first bridged onto _The Nemesis_. I can't claim that Fate would ever waste itself on a drone, but I have always been fascinated with Knights--and to meet one.. to work with one..." his speech was rapid, his helm bobbing along with the words.

Soundwave interrupted what he estimated would soon turn into an adoring tirade with a quick snap of the drone's helm, visor flashing sharply, vocalizer resetting with a grunt, "LAN-c3R's proposal was accepted because his team's coordination in the air is excellent.. and only for that reason."

The Eradicon quickly silenced himself, and went back into a soldier's stance. 

"The mission is set for tonight. The darkness will provide an excellent contrast to the discharge of weapons--it would be impossible to miss even for primitive equipment. You will make as much of a commotion as you can, the key is to be loud and visible. Speak on open Decepticon channels, boast to your team about how you are capturing a _poor, defenseless femme_. When the Autobots arrive, you will have to crash-land, Razorwind. LAN-c3R, you will take her down.. carefully. Then you will uplink the virus I provided. Forcibly. It must be _convincing_. Act with malice."

"Understood," the flyer nodded, even as he admired and respected Razorwind, he knew they were both dedicated to the cause. A little acting wouldn't hurt anyone.. might even be fun, if the virus Soundwave was carefully avoiding describing was the one he suspected it was.

"Ensure that you are close enough to Razorwind that the Autobots cannot fire on you without risking her. They will give you the option to run. Take it, and return here. As for the rest.. Your part was made clear, was it not, Razorwind?"

"Entirely," the Knight-Seeker bowed her helm in acceptance.

"Both of you are dismissed then. Await Knock Out's summon, Razorwind. And LAN-c3R, prepare your team," Soundwave finished, gesturing toward the door with his claw, following with both his, and his drone's faces, as they excused themselves. Once alone, he turned back to the Vehicon, taking a moment to simply.. stare.

The Vehicon spoke, this time, of his own will.. "You gave them _barely_ enough information on this plan. And waiting for the Autobots to arrive to begin.. you want to make sure _everybody_ involved has a nice surprise."

Soundwave leaned his black, empty mask inward, pausing at the side of the drone's face, letting the reflection from his faceplate paint over him, giving them identical expressions. The drone's vocalizer spoke again, always the same voice, _his_ voice, as Soundwave had none of his own--but this time the _thoughts_ were not his.. "This is why you are my favorite.. always so perceptive.. So very pleasing."

"I live to please you.. _Communications Officer Soundwave_.." the drone purred, optic strip brightening, whole frame starting to heat, as he felt the tentacles that held him start to lift.. pulling him both upward and inward...

"Again.." his own voice whispered back at him. _You love hearing your title. I know you do._

_I do._

"Communications.. Officer Soundwave.." he spoke smoothly, evenly, reverently, before his vocalizer burst out with a sharp, hissing "Yes!" and he placed his hands on Soundwave's chest, suspended off the ground by the tentacles, clinging for stability, as he felt more words and thoughts flowing forth from him and to him.. "Yes.. My beautiful little plaything. I'm going to fill you with me, and I'm going to watch you as I do it, I'll be _everywhere_ within and without, and--" the drone's need to groan out in anticipation and excitement occupied the vocalizer, overrode and disrupted Soundwave's declarations... "Oh... oh Soundwave.. _please_.." he wrapped his legs around his beloved officer, unable to even hold back that much. 

And it was to this scene, a drone suspended in the air by a series of writhing tentacles, alternating his vocalizer between whimpering and begging to be interfaced, and seemingly assuring _himself_ that he would be--and _how_ \--that Knock Out entered Sector 5.

He barely even paused, "Please, please. Continue. Don't let me interrupt... _weird puppet theater_." _Seen this way too many times now to be disturbed._ "But first, my mirror, if you would.."

If Soundwave could, he would have smiled. Maybe one day he'd get his drone a face with lips.

\---

Her new chest plate was... simple. The swirling patters of wind and wings hadn't been replicated.. there wouldn't have been time. Knock Out held it gently, careful not to scrape or dent, but he hadn't started to attach it just yet. "You'll have to forgive me for admiring your spark chamber--that silvery material, clearly a customization, but I've never seen it before. I don't think I have it on file."

"Drake scales," Razorwind hadn't thought about her Knight initiation in a long time.. "Those who are accepted as Knights have their spark chambers lined with Mechanidrake scales. There are only so many available, the ritual calls for using those that are given to the Orders' Knight-Exemplars, and only on the specific date they are allowed onto the sacred mountain... The Old Drakes who dwelled within were said to know exactly how many noble sparks existed on Cybertron at any given moment. The Senate was tasked with finding them, though."

She'd spoken it straight from memory, and yet Knock Out continued to stare like she had glitched. "...did you say Mechanidrakes?"

A sudden sound of footsteps rang up to the doorway, "My lady, it is time to--oh, I did not realize your customization was not complete. The team is ready, we have been given the order to start any time. Medical Officer Knock Out, if you would proceed.." LAN-c3R sounded.. eager, and perhaps a bit nervous.

"Yes, of course... Blankface is eager for his little plan to get underway I'm sure..." he continued, lowering the register of his vocalizer so that the rest was to himself, as he locked in the new chest plate, "All clear, hop down for a moment, do a quick transform, let's make sure it's integrated."

The plate felt.. lighter, weaker than her original, but it wasn't hers and it would suffice. Without the insignia, of course.. and while it did sting a little to lose it so soon, she knew it was not truly lost.. it was her intentions and loyalty that mattered. Not imagery. She scanned the floor for a space that had enough room to transform--the med bay had some open space and her altmode wasn't very big at all. Once she'd secured a position, she activated her T-cog, something she actually hadn't done in some time... and folded quickly into her small seaplane form. 

"Ah, very nice..." Knock Out observed, stepping around Razorwind in a wide circle, "It's a recreational vehicle, to be certain, though with some time I can definitely change that. For now though, that's a good thing--not being built for combat will lure the Autobots into trusting you that much faster."

"I would hope so," Razorwind spoke as she transformed back, looking to LAN-c3R who still stood in the doorway. Catching his attention startled him, and he jolted into speech, "Ah--yes! Everything's ready on our end. It's dark, the air is wonderful. Let's fly. Ah, for the mission."

"Don't get yourselves slagged," Knock Out said, turning away from them already, attention elsewhere, putting his tools away.

Razorwind stepped out the door, to see that LAN-c3R's team, four drones similar to him, had been out there the whole time, standing in still formation. They truly were disciplined--impressive. For a moment, no one said anything, each doing their own processor preparation, she was certain, but eventually LAN-c3R broke the silence by lighting up his visor, turning to Razorwind, cocking his head with what she could only imagine was the Eradicon version of a smile. 

"Ever jumped out of a ship before?"

\---

He was right about that--the night air did feel _wonderful_. 

She was supposed to pretend to be scared, but right now all Razorwind felt was excited, as she whirled and twisted, slicing through the sky, tempting the drones to chase her, which they did, hastily, firing their weapons at speeds a little too slow to connect with.. but even the nearest misses simply added to the fun of this game of chase, the streaks of energy making her plates tingle. _How long had it been! Since she had flown, danced and chased?_

"Almost got her!" cried one of LAN-c3R's teammates, screaming over the open channels for all the world to hear. "When I get my claws on that little femme!"

Razorwind couldn't _reply_ , as using Decepticon channels to answer her 'attackers' would make the whole thing invalid pretty quickly, but she could shout to herself and get into the act. "Never, you fiends! A Knight is never captured!" 

A few more glittering streaks of purple laser-fire, making the night sky flash violently, and Razorwind caught the sign the lookout Eradicon was already confirming on the private channels. Green warp of energy--an Autobot groundbridge. 

Here we go. Razorwind steeled herself, knowing the next shot would have to hit her. 

LAN-c3R aimed and fired his weapon, striking Razorwind squarely in the back, between the wings, the shot's power was so low all it did was singe and sting, but it smoked her plating nicely and she made sure to scream about as loud as she could muster, before going into a downward spiral. Couldn't land too close to the groundbridge.. she tried to sneak peeks at it while careening downward, what did these Autobots even look like..?

'Crashing' into the ground, which was more like landing about as heavily as she could but still in a safe position, then skidding along, sending dust and rocks flying everywhere--she transformed and was immediately surrounded by Eradicons, LAN-c3R taking the lead, mashing his foot down on her leg plating. That actually _did_ hurt. But Soundwave had instructed him...

Revving engines and screaming tires could be heard behind him. There wasn't much time.

"Open up, mini-seeker!" He growled, grabbing her by the back of the helm, punching a digit into her uplink port, forcing the panel over it to either open, or break. Razorwind chose open. "Yeah.. that's a good girl. You're going to enjoy this, just as much as me and my team here..." he plunged his uplink cord into the port, sending over the virus, watching as it had an _immediate_ effect--Razorwind's entire frame slacked and heated in his grasp. Soundwave's programming was _potent._

What was _this... by Primus._ Razorwind had never felt anything so.. incendiary before. It was like being on fire everywhere, inside, outside, and yet it didn't hurt it just.. ugh.. it was hard to process what it was except it wanted LAN-c3R to touch her, and that's what he was doing. And his team. They were _all_ on her now. 

"Mhmmm.. that's right.. little seeker.." LAN-c3R whispered into her audio, but at the same time, he'd opened a private comlink.. "I thought it would be this virus. Don't worry, none of us ever intend to harm you. Please enjoy this, my lady."

"Yes..." Razorwind replied, not exactly sure _what_ he'd said but he appeared to be telling her that they were going to touch her and that was what she wanted--so _yes_. Light strokes of claws and even masks over her burning plates, oh, please pretty flyers. _Take all of me._

Until a series of warning shots lit the air and everyone froze.. even Razorwind managed to be startled. A hazy kind of startled. 

"Decepticons... Let her go at once," came a booming, powerful voice--belonging to a gigantic mech, not as big as Megatron, but definitely dwarfing his companions. Well, _most_ of his companions. He was red and blue and--no, he was more than that, Razorwind _realized_ , and suddenly. Even through the virus's hold on her she knew this frame. Lugnut had told her. Lugnut had spoken of him with a combined sense of awe and hatred and Razorwind could understand why. This was Optimus Prime.. the _greatest_ enemy of all Decepticons. Her lips curled into a quick, involuntary snarl-- _how many of her fellows had he killed, how many--_ which she quickly directed at LAN-c3R, catching herself.. "Get off.. me.." she managed, the pleasure signals dancing around her circuits starting to _really_ take hold now, the words coming lagged and heavy.

"Slag. Don't think this is over, mini-seeker." LAN-c3R replied, glancing nervously around at his team. This was the most delicate part of the mission. They disengaged slowly, careful to never leave direct alignment with Razorwind until they were all ready to fly. Then in one quick flurry of transformations, dust, and wings--they were all gone. 

Optimus nodded at Arcee, a silent order to gather up the little femme. What was a mini-seeker doing here on Earth? And being attacked by Decepticons.. well he could figure out that second part. That's what Decepticons _did._

"They definitely uplinked her before we arrived, couldn't.. reach her in time," Arcee noted, before turning her attention down to Razorwind, extending her arms, picking her up. "Hold it steady minibot. I'm pretty sure you have a virus."

Razorwind's plates heated _drastically_ at the feeling of being surrounded by arms, burning Arcee to the point of wincing.. "Yeah," she replied back toward Team Prime, who all looked a little disturbed, "Definitely a virus."

"Ratchet," Prime commed his medic, optics stern, tone even, like always, "We need a return groundbridge immediately. And prepare the med bay."

Razorwind clung a bit tighter to the slim form of the femme carrying her.. Arcee looked down at her, into her visor... at this distance she could just barely make out the outline of her optics beneath the heavy blue glass.. outlines that seemed to cast a deep purple glow beneath.. at least until the green light of the bridge made the colors harder to discern. No time to be staring. This little seeker would need to see Ratchet.

\---

"What happened out there, Optimus! What were the 'cons do--" Ratchet halted his sentence, mouth hanging just slightly open, when Arcee stepped through the bridge, a mini femme in her arms... at this point Razorwind's plates were flushed purple-tint with energon and slacked, there were curls of heat literally rising out of them, and her fans were running _hard_. She turned her helm toward the source of the sound and caught Ratchet's gaze, then moved her neck just enough to indicate that she was roaming her optics over his frame.. 

_Mmmm.. white and red.. nice paint, mech._ Razorwind's fans kicked up harder, and she dared to ghost her glossa out, past her lips.. licking at them.. Arcee watched Ratchet's reaction... before sending him a quick private com. "Perv."

Ratchet didn't deign to answer that, simply turning his helm sharply away from the.. display, and focusing on Optimus, who still hadn't answered him. "Well?"

"She was under attack when we arrived. The Decepticons had managed to infect her with some kind of virus before we could reach her. Her current state is the result of that. Beyond that, we do not know anything about her," Optimus concluded his report, and Arcee began to walk Razorwind toward the med bay, Ratchet following, responding as he started paying attention to the _actuality_ of the symptoms and not just their.. stimulating effects. "Ah.. this virus. Used by rather unsavory sorts to.. take advantage of others. It fills the processor with false pleasure signals and makes it near impossible to resist a forced interface.. Clearly that was the 'cons intent.. Luckily for her, the virus is easily disabled. The effects it has on her body on the other hand.. even _with_ the virus disabled, she would overheat if the false signals' effect wasn't taken care of. A quick patch.. and a medically applied overload.." he trailed off, realizing that perhaps he was going a little too in-depth but he'd already started so he might as well finish explaining... "And she should be functioning normally by the morning."

"Well you should get started," Arcee noted as they reached their destination, and she hastily deposited the little seeker on the large medical berth.. she'd been so slagging _hot_ , it was getting seriously uncomfortable. "I'll see you both in the morning," she waved off as she exited, the doors shutting behind her. 

Razorwind seemed drawn to the sliding sound of the doors, for a moment.. before she turned, slowly, back to Ratchet, still, staring at him, she had to be staring. _He really should get started._

"I'd say relax but I'm pretty sure you're about as relaxed as you've ever been.." Ratchet began, stepping toward the berth, leaning in _just_ enough to pinpoint her uplink port, noting it was already partially open, of course it would be. She shuddered and _nodded_ at him when he touched it, like she was saying _'Yes please. Connect anything to me',_ and with a violent refreshing of his optics Ratchet dispelled that dangerous idea. "Just going to apply a patch. It should only be minutes. Stay still for me, alright?" Ratchet didn't wait for her to confirm, because she'd been sort of mindlessly confirming the whole time, at this point she was probably too slagged to really understand anyway.

"Hehehe..." Razorwind giggled, actually _giggled_ , lecherously, when Ratchet's data cable was extended. 

_By the pit, you little monster. Don't do that._

The flustered medic tried to uplink as neatly and gently as possible, slipping his cable into her access and sending over the patch with urgency. It _was_ urgent, the longer this took the more excess heat she was building up, but the real urgency was probably somewhere within Ratchet, and not his patient. For a moment, he almost felt something _off_ about their connection.. but it was soon overwhelmed with something else, something hot and bright in his processor and _pulling him_ suddenly, making his spark waver in his chest. His knees wobbled and it was all he could do to not collapse, bracing on the side of the berth. His field started to flare all on its own.. buzzing and enveloping the little femme, wanting to sweep her up and hold her and--

Ratchet swiftly disconnected them, taking a deep invent, long and slow and stepping back, bewildered, optics blazing. _What the slag was that?_

"Hmmmm..." was Razorwind's reply, feebly holding up her arms, trying to beckon Ratchet back to her. So much for an answer. 

But he _did_ have to return to her.. the job was only half done. He took a seat next to the overheating frame, and the instant he did Razorwind was upon him, like she was energon-starved, climbing on, holding tight. He jumped, prying, trying to at least keep some shred of decency, "Off! Not in my lap! Let go will you!" he groused and grumbled but it was no use, her little fingers were too cleverly caught up in his plating. _Did he say she was a monster? No, she was a pitspawned fiend._

And then she started to... slide, rubbing her external sensors over his legs, ugh.. bouncing and riding on one of his thighs, making little sounds of pleasure and... Ratchet dared to look down--leaving lubricant trails all over him. _Oh Primus._ His fans started up _instantly_. 

What were the options. Let her ride him to overload, which would take a _nice, long time_ considering that she didn't seem to even have the presence of processor to _open_ her panels first, or stop the show, and do what he'd set out to do. 

Tiny fingertips started to draw lines over the red stripes on his chest, and Ratchet shook his helm _violently_. Medical overload. Medical overload. _Medical overload!_ He was _better_ than those damned 'cons!

Necessary level of willpower achieved, Ratchet took hold of Razorwind's waist and shifted her.. gently, hoping that she wouldn't take this movement as an attempt to dislodge her and fight, which luckily, she did not. Once she was leaning back a bit, he could reach between her legs.. his large fingers sweeping over her interface, the panels understanding to open the moment he touched them.. revealing two valves, instead of a spike/valve array. Interesting.. but not important right now! _Just have to overload one of them and I can go back to my quarters and offline from all this stress._

The mini-seeker wriggled impatiently and Ratchet stopped stalling, pushing a thick digit at the primary valve, circling it, giving an adequate amount of stimulation to each of the nodes within.. _Just stay clinical. You know how to do this._

Razorwind sharply bucked and moaned and Ratchet's tentative fingertip slipped a bit further inside--fine, if she wanted to accelerate this he wasn't going to complain. Oh, but her valve was so tiny and.. yet so sensitive, he could tell where the pleasure receptors were and it seemed to be _packed_ with them. For a microsecond he let himself wonder just _how_ good it must feel for her, being spiked.. Mmh, Ratchet could only dream of having a valve so tight and receptive--no! _Absolutely no thinking about that!_

Ratchet settled on thrusting his finger in and out of Razorwind, every now and then returning to the external sensors to rub and press and keep them activated so they would continue to pick up his motions as he slipped back in. It wouldn't be long now. She was trembling in his lap and seeping lubricant all over him, wouldn't that be fun to clean up.. and Ratchet was just counting the seconds in his processor until a soft little voice started _speaking_ to him.

"Mmmh.. please uh.. your.. designation.." the blurring heat was partially lifting from Razorwind, and she realized rather suddenly that she would like to know the _name_ of the mech with his fingers in her port. 

"Ratchet," he replied, not ready to answer but giving his name came automatically, he'd said it before he even noticed he had. _It should only be a few more seconds now.._

"Then Ratchet.." Razorwind called him, leaning forward momentarily, planting a kiss on his chest and then angling a steamed visor up at him.. "Please overload me.." she sobbed, falling back, giving his arm room to move again, and he just couldn't _help_ it, he hungrily pushed a finger into her secondary port and rubbed them both in time, making the mini-seeker cry out to the base's ceiling and overload with both valves _at once_ , rocking her hips hard, riding through it, pushing herself down on him and clamping all around his digits... until she was weak and tired and starting to rapidly cool again. She slumped forward, slipping towards offlining, her systems slowing, and Ratchet shifted her off to the side on the berth--and ensured her panels were closed up. Done.

Ratchet took one long look at his fingers, finally free--and shimmering, stained with what could only be the _sweetest_ of fluids.. Involuntarily, he smacked his glossa at the roof of his mouth.. before the rational part of his processor caught up with what the rest had been hatching and shamed him. _Really. You already stretched the definition of a 'medical overload', and now you want to lick up her sweet lubricant too. What next, a good night spiking?_

Reaching for a nearby rag, Ratchet wiped off his fingers before tossing it in the rag bin... staring defiantly at it like he'd just had some sort of miniature victory. And now it was time to leave. He'd activate the heated berth so his patient would be nice and cozy, and then he'd be off to his... except that when he tried to get to his feet, two little hands grabbed at his waist.

"Stay," Razorwind insisted, even as she seemed to be mostly offline. "Stay," she demanded again, not even waiting to hear his response. 

_Do I even have the energy to fight. Besides, after what she's been through.. fine._ Ratchet exvented, sighing.. hopefully he could disengage them and make this look at least halfway moral by the morning. Climbing back up onto the berth, he settled onto his back, a neutral position, he wasn't trying to.. cuddle, which is what the little seeker wanted, as she curled up into his side and wound her arms around as much of his frame as she could. _Well after an overload like that, I suppose you would want to._

Content with her position, Razorwind slipped completely into recharge, and Ratchet lay awake just a bit longer.. taking in the silence, thinking about just how slagged the entire night was, and eventually, listening to the little femme's sparkbeat, as it pulsed against his plating. Ah... before the War ruined everyone's lives that it didn't extinguish instead. He'd had nights like this, well, not like _this_ but nights where he'd shared a berth with a partner.. listening to both their sparkbeats, the patterns the alternating sounds would form and break.. except wait. He didn't hear his _own_ sparkbeat. 

...no, it was there. It had only been.. indistinguishable from the mini-seeker's. Their rhythm was exact--matching. The kind of thing that probability decreed never happened. He waited. Waited for the pattern to break. Eventually one of them would diverge. Except that they never did. 

Identical sparkbeats were said to be only shared between destined sparkbonds. Now as a medic, he preferred to put his faith in proven things, things that had been observed long enough to be in dusty old data volumes, and destined bonds were _not_ considered actual, scientific fact but... he knew he believed in them, and with good reason. Still, that didn't mean he believed in them for _himself,_ it made sense that Fate and Primus and whatever else may be would be working their magic in the life of the _Prime_ , but he was not the Prime, he was just another medic, and he was not going to get carried away. 

This was merely an intriguing coincidence. 

The kind that made him feel all warm and excited inside. 

\---

He rushed air into his vents at the same time his legs spread just a _bit_ wider. And he didn't even _need_ to give her more room.

The mini-seeker was curled on her knees down the berth, snugly nested between his legs and happily licking the insides of his thighs, smearing her glossa over the smooth white plating and getting him so _charged_ , ugh.. his panel opened without hesitation.

And she'd glided right past his spike, to what he _really_ wanted. _Oh frag.. yes.._

Just the _sound_ of that glossa and those soft lips sucking and lapping at his valve upped his lubricant production.. which she only seemed to enjoy, eagerly slipping her glossa deeper, tasting him, oh.. probably smearing stains all over that _pretty little face... oh so good. Just a little more..._

And Ratchet woke with a start, fans whirling, whole frame arching and trying to get a glossa that _wasn't there_ deeper into his valve-- _his panel was open and he was in the med bay berth with a patient!_

"Oh slag it all..." he grumbled, tearing himself from the berth and trying to apply a medical override code to his panel... and his pressurized spike which was blocking it from closing, which he couldn't get to take because he kept scrambling it every time he sent it, because his processor was rushing and nervous! Quickly he did the only thing he _could_ think of to do in this situation, turn away from the mini-seeker in the berth and get up against the counter and try to calm down. _Just keep her from seeing this, and maybe it will work out._

Razorwind, awakened by all the frantic movement, stretched a bit and blinked her visor.. taking in the medic's strange behavior.. and assessing the previous night.. that virus was _something_. Soundwave... really could have explained that a bit.. better. Not that it was unpleasant at all... Oh no.. it had actually been rather.. nice. Her valves warmed at the memory beneath her plating. Definitely nice. She could still feel some lubricant remnants clinging to the inside of the panels.. that she might have added a bit to during the night, heh... she definitely needed a trip to the washracks this morning. 

And her companion looked like he needed some help. "What's wrong?" Razorwind asked, noting how he was quivering with tension. Back facing her.. hiding.. _Oh, was he..?_

_I can't calm down long enough to apply the damned override. I can't believe this. Well you know what, fine._ _Time for honesty. She can be disgusted and I can get out of here--_

"Naughty simulation..?" Razorwind asked, a smirk on her lips, though Ratchet couldn't exactly see it. The medic nodded, not wanting to answer but wanting to answer.. and Razorwind laughed, lightly, not mocking, just.. pleased. "Me too," she supplied, stretching out on the berth, letting herself be comfortable with the admission, "I ah.. have a thing for white and red mechs."

_And I have a thing for mini-seekers getting their pretty lips all over my valve._ "Hah.. well now I don't feel quite as foolish.." and the lull in the tension was _enough_ , Ratchet got his panel closed and turned back to the berth, smiling at the seeker splayed out all over it. _Slag she was cute._

"My name's Razorwind, by the way... I was so caught up, last night.. I asked your designation but never supplied my own. Forgive me for that."

"Forgive _you!"_ Ratchet practically howled in disbelief, "I'm the one who went too far with the overload and then obliged a still recovering and not entirely right of processor patient with a post-overload _cuddle_. Those things are not exactly.. acceptable behavior. And I do apologize for them. If you come to regret..."

"No, I enjoyed them. Honestly. Now that I am thinking clearly, please, do not worry. Besides.. that was quite the overload. Never experienced anything like it.. It's one to remember," Razorwind's lips quirked lightly and Ratchet felt very much at ease.. at least until he noticed that her visor kept dipping between his legs.. tracking downward revealed.. ah, lubricant stains all over the inside of his leg plates. _Well when were you going to tell me about that._

"You probably want to get cleaned up," Ratchet advised, grabbing another lucky rag and wiping up his mess, tossing it. "Allow me to escort you to the washracks. They're nothing special, but more than enough to reach a satisfactory level of clean."

Gathering up off the berth, Razorwind agreed, feeling noticeably _sticky_ upon moving. "Lead the way, Ratchet.." she nodded up at him, and she took in her first sights of the Autobot base...

\---

Alright.. he'd dropped Razorwind off at the washracks, now all he needed to do was get the med bay back in order, and he'd have survived this morning... so of course as he entered the doors, Optimus was standing within, waiting for him.

...with his optics directly on the rag bin, and its very _stained_ contents.

"Old friend.." he began, a twinge of humor in his vocalizer, "You look well this morning."

Ratchet huffed and put his hands on his hips, it was early, none of that lubricant had led to _him_ overloading, and he would be indignant with his leader, "Optimus... I know very well the joke going around this base is that the old medic needs a good interface. You don't have to pile on. Besides, you and I both know I haven't had that interface."

And Optimus, knowing his comment deserved such a remark, smiled warmly and got back to business. "So, how is she?"

"Razorwind is doing fine now, I believe," Ratchet added a name to the mystery. "She wasn't still overheating when she woke up, and she walked just fine to the washracks with me. I will do a secondary scan to ensure there are no lingering effects from the virus, but only after there has been some time for possible effects to develop. Tonight."

"I have informed the team to try and go easy.. on the questions they have for her, but they will likely be extensive. Honestly I have a few myself. There is something different about her, but I would like her to confirm my suspicions about her origin herself," the Prime spoke quietly but seriously, a pondering look on his face, "and while we may be curious about her, our primary goal will be to see that she is fully recovered. I trust you to this, Ratchet."

"Of course, Optimus," Ratchet nodded, "That's my goal as well."

They paused for a moment, before Optimus commed openly, speaking aloud to the room.. "Arcee. Could you please wait for our guest outside the washrack, make sure she finds her way to some energon cubes." After a moment, he nodded in reply, and then turned to Ratchet. "I'll be taking my morning fuel as well. I will see you when you're finished here."

And the Prime exited the med bay, leaving Ratchet with his thoughts.. and his rags. 

\---

"Hey.." Arcee began as Razorwind finally exited the washrack, leaning up from the wall and waving. "Good to see you're still online. You tried to burn holes in my plating last night. I'm Arcee."

"Razorwind," she replied, smiling. So this was the femme who had carried her. An admirable response, had it been real she would feel a true sense of gratitude for the action. 

"I know it's probably been a long night for you.. who knows what else you had to deal with before you got here. Let's get you some energon, and then you can meet the Team properly." Arcee outlined as she started to lead Razorwind down the expansive halls of the base.. such wide pathways, even wider than The Nemesis, but nowhere near as dark. Soon, however, things started to get _foggy_.. what was.. _slag_. Razorwind realized as the more heated air inside her plating was steaming out at her movements.. fogging up her visor, and terribly. This always happened when she exited the washracks too quickly.. she normally didn't think anything of it, it was simple to just retract her visor until she cooled down but.. that wasn't possible here. 

_Alright. Just follow the outline._

Arcee came to a stop eventually, and Razorwind watched her carefully.. what would come next? The blur shifted.. the arm stretched upward.. "Sorry if I'm making you feel like a sparkling, or a.. what do you guys call them, seekerlets? Anyway, I'm getting this for you because it's just a little bit out of your reach. And we don't have any minicubes either so.. I hope you've got a good grip.." the blur's arm came back down holding something glowing and purple. Energon cube.

_Well, all I have to do is take an object that's bigger than my hand from something I can't see. How could that be difficult._

Reaching with both hands, Razorwind gripped around the cube, faltering for a moment but retaining a grasp on it after a few seconds. "Thank you," she said, keeping her vocalizer calm. 

"No problem--hey, your visor is pretty fogged," Arcee finally noticed, and Razorwind quickly took a drink from her cube, giving herself time to form a reply, though not really a good one.. "That will happen sometimes.. it will clear itself."

Arcee raised an optic ridge.. _someone doesn't like taking off their visor, noted_. Still, she couldn't help but think about what she'd _almost_ thought she saw back before the groundbridge brought them here... "Alright, to the common room. There's a whole Team with about a million questions for you waiting," she led Razorwind out of the fueling station, to a very wide, well lit area--Optimus, Bee, Bulkhead, they were all waiting within.. 

As Razorwind's visor started to clear, she scanned her optics around for Ratchet, failing to locate him. Well perhaps he was busy--medics are often busy. _I might as well learn about these Autobots. I have only been told of them by my companions. What are they like, outside of the battlefield? So far they haven't been.. threatening._ She took in the yellow and green mechs looking eagerly at her. They didn't look dangerous at all, perhaps the larger one purely because of his size, but Lugnut was bigger than him, and he had an armed frame like a _real_ warrior. None of them but the Prime were even threats, in her assessment. Why had Megatron not wiped them out...? _Wait.. the groundbridges. They do not leave this base physically, do they.. come to think of it, I do not even know where I am--not that I would know this planet's locations, but I still have been provided with none. This base is a secret..._

But before she could get too deeply in her considerations, the yellow mech had gotten suddenly _animated_ , beeping and chirping at her. Ah.. one of those models.. without a vocalizer, or perhaps with one too damaged for repair. She could translate it, albeit with a bit of delay. The message did piece itself together in time.. "What's your name?" he had asked, along with.. "I didn't know there were mini-seekers. Are you the last one?"

Before she could answer, however, the large green mech interrupted with his own questions. "Nah.. Bee," he started to the yellow mech, then turned toward her, "what's important is were you afraid of those flying 'cons! You got any weapons? Know how to fight?"

The yellow one--Bee she assumed, started to beep in protest that his questions should have priority, but before any kind of argument, as playful as it seemed, could break out, the Prime, who had been standing behind them patiently, cleared his vocalizer and stepped forward, "Instead of answering those, why don't you simply tell us whatever you feel comfortable with. We are all curious about your story.. who you are and how you came to be on this planet."

Now that would be easier. Perhaps. _Remember, you only need share enough to gain their trust. And there's no need to lie. Simply leave out the part about being a Decepticon._ "I am Razorwind, and I hope that I am neither the last mini-seeker, nor the last of the Knight Orders of Cybertron. I was once a member of the Exploratory Knights, though by losing my ship and crewmate, I have certainly failed in my duties."

The Prime's optics brightened with.. what she could only hope was curiosity and not disbelief. "Knight Orders are from the ancient days of Cybertron." _Far removed from even the times when the planet still could support life.. and those times are growing ever more distant from our present day..._ "And a mini-seeker.. would mean you are.. Vixian, are you not?" 

"And you are from Iacon." Razorwind noted, knowing that facial structure, that diamond-shaped crest anywhere. Many Iaconian mechs and even a few femmes were accepted into the Knight-Initiate program.. though she'd honestly always had her doubts about.. a good majority of them. Sure, the Old Drakes decreed the _number_ of noble sparks dwelling on Cybertron, but how come the Senate never found these noble sparks within the... larger, or rougher looking frametypes? Never a Kaonite. Too often in those pretty-faced Iaconian brats. Sure, Seekers had their vanity.. but they had ferocity--to back up any boasting. Iacon, seat of the Senate, was rich and content and full of idle sparks dreaming about a mythical form of glory that came without _effort_. How many of her fellow Knights had wealthy and influential sires back home with all the right wires to pull... to ensure their heirs would be _considered_ noble sparks..?

This Prime. Would he have been considered one? Even as an enemy he could be _noble_ , after all, honorable combat existed because both sides had their own righteous, yet conflicting paths. One of the harder lessons from her trainers... but truly she was becoming too lost in her own thoughts. The story was not finished.. "I was in stasis, for hundreds of millions of years, I can only assume... my ship, _The Pride of the Skies III_ , must have been adrift in space. How I came to be separated from it, on this planet.. or if it even still exists.. I do not know. I awakened here and was rapidly set upon by those foul mechs," Razorwind ended, doing her best to look _lost_ as she spoke. 

"I know of your ship, _The Pride_.. and its predecessors. They were based on ships belonging to organics--experimental ships designed for _very_ long distance transport," the Prime answered, surprising Razorwind. _How old was he, to know these things? He seemed to possess knowledge beyond his years, almost if he were a real Prime.. not like those merely appointed the title to describe their status as leaders of something._ "..still, I could not tell you what has happened to your ship. We did not detect the arrival of any starships on this planet.. but if Decepticons were involved in its capture, it is possible they have shielded us from observing them. It seems, however, that you were provided with a stroke of fortune--to not be captured along with it. Those Eradicons that attacked you would have certainly taken you to their leader.. Megatron. And that is a fate worse than deactivation, for a noble Knight like you."

Her programming burned at that.. Insults to one's Lord, however slight, were _never_ to be tolerated, and yet her mission was on the line, and her programming knew that _too_ , so she settled on remaining neutral and responding.. "I do not know this Megatron.. but if he commands those vile mechs who assaulted me, he certainly must be.. _dangerous_." She hadn't phrased it like a threat and she hadn't said it like a threat but her core code knew it was a threat, and it was satisfied. 

"He certainly is. And may you never learn just how much.." the Prime ended that train of thought, moving on. "But now that you have introduced yourself, allow me to do the same, and perhaps shed some light on this world around you. There is much you will not know, about what has happened to our people.. and to our planet. I am Optimus Prime. Leader of the Autobots, the last remaining opposition to the Decepticons. What seems a long time ago to us, though was merely a fraction of the time you spent in stasis, our home was destroyed, poisoned with dark energon unleashed by Megatron's madness, and crumbling apart from all the sustained combat. Your city and mine, are nothing more than dust and ruins now. And the majority of the population of Cybertron... is offline." the Prime's face was grim.. though what else could it be, relaying such information? The _dark energon_ part was something new though. That substance was thought to be purely mythical, blood of an evil god.. How did Megatron obtain it? And why would he use it on the planet itself? Certainly there were missing pieces of her story.. but filling them with information from the _enemy_ made her apprehensive. They would have nothing _positive_ to say about her Lord, and harboring doubts was harboring dishonor--another lesson she'd learned well. 

For a moment, she remembered the question she'd asked Lugnut. He'd been adamant and clear--the reason the Decepticons still fought was because Cybertron had to be ruled by Megatron. Did this Prime feel the same? "Tell me, Optimus Prime.. why do you still fight Megatron? Could you not leave him and his people to do what they wish, and rebuild your lives elsewhere?"

"It is not so simple..." Optimus began, shaking his helm slowly.. "Left unchallenged, Megatron would either destroy, or conquer _this_ planet, that we have made our new home, in his unending quest for power. I cannot allow that. Also, we Autobots are the sworn enemies of the Decepticons. There is no hidden place in this universe they would not scour, just to see us wiped from existence. We remain here because the War rages to this day, and we must _fight_. Our people wish for peace, and for the rebirth of Cybertron.. but at this point we are simply too.. divided from our fellow Cybertronians. The only solution I have found is to defeat Megatron, and force his followers to surrender."

"Could you do it?" Razorwind found herself asking too quickly, curiosity and dread and disbelief all mixing together, "Could you defeat Megatron?"

"I _will_ defeat Megatron," Prime's answer was surprisingly final.. and Razorwind _restrained herself_. 

The silence that settled in afterward was... most uncomfortable.

At least, until the loud green mech shattered it, and thankfully. "Well alright.. for those of us who don't know everything about everything like Boss Bot here--oh, by the way, I'm Bulkhead--this is Bumblebee--what exactly are these Knights, or a Knight Order? You mean like the old legend stories?"

Grateful for the chance to slip into familiar territory, Razorwind took a moment to consider where she should begin. It seemed the stories of very real deeds and feats had been transformed over the ages into old legends. "Well, I could tell you about the Knight Orders and their structure, how their members are chosen, what their tasks were... or I could tell you stories of individual Knights.. such as the Grand Knight of Silver Wings--none knew his true designation, only that he was a fearsome warrior who would descend from the sky on lightning bolts, his Mechanidrake mount bearing him aloft over his enemies, fighting for the independence of his city-state of--" 

Frantic beeping interrupted the story... "Mechanidrakes were _real???"_

"The _Knight of Silver Wings_ was real!?" Bulkhead added, and both mechs leaned in, utterly fascinated. 

Razorwind would have a long, long... day ahead of her.

\---

As the day wound into night, Razorwind was glad when Ratchet had collected her from the two excitable, story-hungry mechs, who had literally made her empty her processor on the Knights of Cybertron and then had promptly wanted to know more about Sedaver Vix, as apparently it wasn't too widely known outside of the Seekers. When they finally decided they had learned enough, instead of granting her a reprieve, they decided to share some of their personal interests, which were apparently partially inspired by the organic life forms that inhabited this planet.. organic life forms that had a love affair with loud sounds and quickly moving images. 

It was nice to just be wandering down a hallway again.

"I hope Bulkhead and Bee didn't wear you out. They mean well, they're excited to have a new friend, who appears to be as young as they are..."

"I don't know, Ratchet. I think I might be older than I look. It wasn't horrible just.. a little too fast paced for something that doesn't involve flying," Razorwind cocked her helm upward and smiled.

"I feel the same way--well, except the flying part. And the _wasn't horrible_ part." Ratchet smirked back down at her, as he opened the med bay doors and they both stepped through, "I'll need to perform a secondary scan of your systems, if the virus had any delayed symptoms or is showing any signs of reactivation, I should be able to detect them now that some time has passed..." Ratchet motioned toward the medical berth, and Razorwind hopped onto it, sitting and looking up at him, expectantly, "I'm afraid you'll have to recharge in the med bay again tonight.. our base doesn't actually have spare berths other than the ones here.." he pulled over a nearby surface scan probe and began drawing it lightly over her frame, hovering and glancing over at the terminal screen it was attached to.. this would be quick..

"Ratchet.. will you stay with me tonight?" Something _made_ her ask.

Ratchet stiffened, nervously. _You still want to be near me?_ Not knowing what to say, he settled for not saying anything, focusing on the scanner. Until of course, right on time for him to not have it as an excuse, it beeped a completion indicator. "You're clear," he responded with something at least, "No virus remains active."

Razorwind pressed, she wasn't letting it go that easily. "Will you?"

"Razorwind.." Ratchet began, before halting.. _how do I convince her not to do something I want her to do..._ "Are you sure that--"

"I would be more comfortable, if you were by my side.." she reached up, painting one of those red stripes with her fingertips again, she loved touching them.. but she wasn't tall enough to kiss him, even as she wanted to.. but that didn't mean she wouldn't make it _very obvious_ that was what she wanted. Tilting up her helm, pushing her lips forward.. _come down here and kiss me, Ratchet._

And he did. Bending to get in range, Ratchet gladly locked them into a kiss, feeling her press for more.. so insistent! She whined as he pulled back but she realized he was only getting a better stance, leaning an arm down onto the berth for support as he dipped even lower, enough to apply some real _force_. 

Neither of them noticed the med bay doors opening, Razorwind with her optics closed beneath her visor and Ratchet.. with his frame bent over happily displaying his aft to the door and any potential visitors while he ravaged the little squeaking seeker's lips. Well at least doc bot was finally getting some, Arcee noted, though she'd come _about that_ , sort of, but she had no interest in interrupting. Or being spotted right now. So she swiftly backed away and allowed the doors to close.. she'd catch up to Ratchet when he returned to his quarters.. well, from the looks of things in there, that was a _maybe_ at best. 

Still.. who made out with a mech like that--with their visor on?

The oblivious pair simply continued, at least until Razorwind's processor came up with a more devious course of action. Pulling away from her heated medic, she slid back along the berth, sitting out of reach, arms to either side, legs casually open and inviting.. Teasing. 

"You want to play it that way, hmm?" Ratchet said out loud instead of in his processor, clambering into the berth, chasing after her. Reclaiming her lips, he added in the wandering of his fingers, over her plating.. his hands could cover so much ground and he was eager to do so. Eventually he slipped behind her, settling on cupping and squeezing her aft.. and Razorwind was caught between giggling and moaning.. everything seemed to be caught between sweet and hot. Ratchet didn't have the kind of processor that just got right down to business... in fact he still wasn't even sure he was going to _do this_ , after all, how long had he known Razorwind now.. a whole two days? 

Someone needed to tell that to his energy field, though. He was flaring _fiercely_ , knowing that soon he'd be sparking, static building up everywhere. It was nearly overwhelming, how much attraction he felt to this little seeker.. the way she was writhing around next to him, trying to get into his plating, trying to memorize all the red parts of him with her glossa.. Mmh.. He kissed her again. Those lips.. _want them all over me._

"Ratchet.." he'd heard her call, so deeply entranced by the tracing he was doing inside her mouth that he didn't _really_ hear it. His field was swollen all throughout the room by this point, he was sure. And so was hers.. ugh, it was so _strong_ and good.. he broke the kiss for all of a moment to start licking at her neck, shutting down his optics, just listening to Razorwind cry out, but she was still calling his name.. at the same time.. what..? But he couldn't focus on that, some kind of magnetic attraction was pulling him back down, back down into her.. and his processor asked if he wanted to open his spark chamber.. yes, yes he--DID NOT. 

Onlining his optics hastily and frightfully, he realized that.. _by the Allspark_ , the little femme's chestplates were partially split open, and they'd been scraping each other for.. how long? He could see the light streaming from her spark, pure silvery white.. This had to stop, and now. 

"Razorwind!" Ratchet demanded, indicating down while pulling away. She blinked her visor slowly, as if coming back to _reality_ , before reacting much the same way as Ratchet had, with complete and total panic. Her chestplates slid shut with a heavy click and she scrambled away from him on the berth, fans cycling, frame heaving with intensity. 

_What.. what the frag did we almost do._

"...My spark," Razorwind began--very eventually--they'd been silent so long both had thought maybe there just wouldn't be any explanation, and maybe that would be fine with them both, "..it was calling for yours. So strongly.. I didn't know what I was even _doing._ "

"The same was happening to me," Ratchet added, at least this wasn't one-sided, that would have been a disaster. A.. _more_ disaster. 

"Do you know what this means!" Razorwind demanded, even though she _knew_ , she just wanted a chance to question. 

"Only a.. destined sparkbond, has been described as being so.. powerful and demanding.. and to be honest I never believed in them. At least not for.. common mechs like myself.." Ratchet corrected, but not wishing to go into detail.. "And I still do not intend to start fully believing in such fantasies tonight," he added, trying to anchor himself, get some footing to stand on, in the chaotic sea of his thoughts, "It could very well be that we were moving too quickly. I admit, I have not been _intimate_ in some time, and after your time in stasis, your systems could be eager to feel a connection to another."

Razorwind didn't believe him, _Ratchet didn't believe himself._ But what would be better, _pretending_ to believe it, or accepting the fact that her destined sparkbond was an Autobot, an enemy?

_Pretending was easier, at least._

"I think it would be best.." Ratchet lifted off the berth, getting to his feet.. "If I retired to my own quarters tonight. You can still call me if you need anything, you know that."

"That _would_ probably be best.." Razorwind acknowledged, a strange sense of pain at the idea occupying her. 

Ratchet stepped to the berth's console, activating its heat systems.. he would make sure his little seeker was comfortable, at least, before he left her to a night of awkward thoughts and probably no recharge at all... Still, when he looked down at her, he couldn't help but lean back in, offer _one more_ kiss. Gently, right on the top of her helm. "Good night... sweetspark," he'd whispered, letting his lips brush as he pulled away.

"Good night, Ratchet.." she added, wanting to pull him back--but knowing, _knowing_ that this whole thing had gone too far, now. 

The med bay lights switched off when Ratchet left the room, and Razorwind sat in the darkness, optics darting around the walls, uneasy.. restless. 

_I have to get out of here. Tomorrow, I will escape. I cannot allow this.. whatever this is.. to progress any further than where it has._

\---

Ratchet had not been expecting to see Arcee waiting for him outside his door.. looking like she wanted to talk to him, too. He had enough to think about right now.

She leaned up from the wall, unfolding her crossed arms, leveling her optics with his. "Look, Ratchet. I'll make it quick, okay? Did you ever look under Razorwind's visor, when you were examining her?"

"There was no reason to do so," Ratchet said, grumpily.. he _really_ didn't want to talk right now. He had hours of not recharging to get to.

"Isn't it a little suspicious to you, that she keeps it on, all the time? She had it on coming out of the washrack earlier. She was practically blinded from the steam and she still wouldn't remove it."

"So maybe she really likes her visor! Is that all you came to say, Arcee?" 

"I think she's _hiding_ something from us, Ratchet. I'm trying to warn you about it, for your own good! Look under that visor!"

And Ratchet was just a little too confused, a little too weary, and a little too sparkbroken to listen any longer.

"If you want to see under that slagging visor so badly, remove it yourself. Now if you would allow me into my own room!" Ratchet hissed, bypassing Arcee in a few steps, sealing the door behind him, leaving her in the hall. 

With an exasperated shrug, Arcee swept off down the hallway. _Waste of time._

Inside, laying on his berth.. Ratchet didn't dwell on Arcee's comments for a moment. His own were too pressing, too distracting. 

_I tried to sparkbond her. I almost did! And now I'm laying here feeling like I did something wrong by stopping!_

He felt his spark pulling, not that it had far to pull to reach what it wanted, but from the way it was troubling him--the med bay and his berth may have been on opposite sides of the planet. And he _hadn't_ bonded. This level of spark activity was simply _unwarranted._

_And what would be so bad about it?_ Ratchet heard himself asking, somewhere in what was likely the loneliest part of his processor. _She likes you, she makes you feel wonderful, why not do it?_

Ratchet piled up the reasons. He wanted there to be a mountain of them, between him and this foolish notion. _I barely know her. She's lost, wandering, she's not a part of Team Prime. I don't need to get her involved in this War of ours. Sparkbonding is for peace time, when we aren't in danger of being offlined any day now.. and this is all moving too fast!_

Of course, just because he couldn't stop thinking, the reasons started to unravel themselves, one by one. _I can get to know her, it's not as if she isn't interested. And there are no Cybertronians not involved in this War, no matter where they are, what we have done to ourselves will catch up to us all, some day. Wouldn't it be better to try and care for her? There's no safer place to be than here, with us... with Prime. And she's not weak. Primus she's a damned Knight--she's had more combat training than I have. She could become an Autobot, and.. if we.. if I were to offline without having tried.. having known.._

"I'm being an old fool..." Ratchet vented deeply and slacked on his berth. He thought about the others. What would they do in this situation? Every one of them--including their leader, would take the chance while they had it. Then again, they were the ones who went through the groundbridge, while he stayed behind and made sure everyone got back in one piece. _Caution has served me well._

_But this isn't about combat. It's about love. Ugh. They don't train medics enough on either of these._

_...but I do know how to make decisions._

\---

_I can't wait any longer._

Slipping down from the berth, silent feet along the ground, Razorwind padded out of the med bay, tracing the wide halls of the base to Ratchet's quarters. It was far earlier than normal to be up and about, earlier than she would have gotten up otherwise and there was a good chance he'd still be in recharge but if he was--she would wake him. 

It barely took half a knock at his door before it slid open.. Ratchet was as awake as she was. Razorwind smiled reflexively, he looked undercharged and jumpy and.. adorably troubled. "Ah.. good morning, Razorwind." 

"Good morning, Ratchet.. Sorry if it's too early. I just.. it has been some time, since I've _flown,"_ and she made sure to droop her wings here, looking as pitiful as possible. The Autobots were all _grounders_ , they could stay in this base for days and be fine, but she wasn't. And while she certainly hadn't reached the point of flightlessness where it would really irritate--in actuality it took much longer--Ratchet very likely didn't know that. "Is there any chance we can go outside? I want to feel the morning air."

And Ratchet paused. At the least, she hadn't come to discuss last night. But instead she breached a topic just as delicate. Their base's location was a secret.. and while she was no _prisoner_ , he knew better than to allow anyone who was _already_ on the Decepticons' target list to know where they were hiding. Still, the groundbridge could give them immediate access to anywhere on the planet, and he hadn't been forbidden from taking her out--she was free to leave at any time, actually, to fly, to never return, whatever she wanted. It wouldn't be a problem to just take her out flying. And he did.. have a location in mind. "There's a place I found once, entirely by accident, when I was testing the groundbridge. I think you'd like it, a lot better than the skies above this base. Let me show you." He made sure to finish it without asking a question. There was no alternative, after all. 

_So the base is indeed a secret... it wasn't my mission to find its location. Anywhere outside will do._ "That sounds wonderful. I'd like to see it."

They'd walked to the groundbridge controls in silence, but easy silence. The tension each had dreaded would have cropped up between them hadn't materialized. Instead, they shared a warmth, the feeling of two sparks grateful to see each other again. Razorwind looked up at Ratchet, she always had to look _up_ and it made him smile because he had to look _down_. What a ridiculous pair they'd make. _She'll wear out my knee joints. I can't kiss her without kneeling._

Ratchet had saved the coordinates in the bridge's console, which had greatly amused Optimus when he was looking them over, during one of those days when he was griping about inferior organic _everything_ , and Prime, too wise for his own good sometime, had made some gentle remark about how _nice_ it was that he had taken the time to notice the _beauty_ of their new home planet, which had ended his rant rather promptly. "Ready to go?" he turned toward Razorwind who was looking toward the place where the bridge would manifest, still, clearly thinking, who knows what on her processor.

"I'm ready," she spoke, so seriously Ratchet wondered if he'd managed to do or say something offensive in their brief morning exchange so far. But after looking up at him, she softened.. "Definitely ready," _there was that smile_.

Powering the bridge up, the green warp filled out in front of them, and both took a step through. A crisp gust of air connected with them before they'd even made it to the other side, and once the light dissipated from around them--the scenery took over.

It was a large lake, ringed by trees that duplicated themselves over its mirror surface. A wide open, gray and blue morning sky all around and above, brushed everything with cool wisps... and nothing moved. 

"Now I know.." Ratchet began, gesturing around, "that this is no electrum river, and the air here is probably colder than you'd like, and the sun--"

"It's beautiful," Razorwind interrupted, already wanting to take it in, suddenly impatient with the ground, feeling like it really _had_ been too long since she'd flown. 

And Ratchet caught that impatience. "Don't let me keep you. You fly, I'll be over here," he said, finding a good spot by the lake, settling down beside it. The first couple of times he'd returned here, visited this place, he'd refused to sit on the ground, after all, dirty organic material and all.. but in time he came to realize.. one, it was a lot more comfortable, and two.. really the whole planet was covered in the stuff, whether he sat or not. So why not take some stress off his joints. Besides--he'd have a better view from here.

Razorwind wasted no time transforming, she'd leapt into the air, right over the lake and folded herself into a cute little plane... she skimmed down over the water and he realized.. a cute little _seaplane!_ Ratchet couldn't believe his luck in location. She really _would_ enjoy this.He watched intently, as she broke the calm surface of the lake--slicing through it, sending droplets scattering and glittering everywhere, a surge of water behind before she left the lake, taking off up.. up... 

_Cool air over slightly wet wings--was there anything better?_ Razorwind climbed and climbed, if it could her spark would have sung to the sky, taken hold of those clouds. She swept in a wide circle, taking in everything.. from up here the trees made their _own_ clouds, copying the white with green, spreading over all the land except the lake. Cybertron was _never_ like this.. in fact she only knew those things were called _trees_ because Exploratory Knights learned of organic planets and their.. interesting lifeforms. 

She didn't stop for some time. The flight was effortless and calm, after the initial rush of just _feeling_ the air, Razorwind was free to merge with it, let it carry her more than she did anything--and just _think_. Would she ever see this place again? Truthfully, it didn't matter. As long as there was wind left in this world, she would have a place to fly. But she still felt a strange sense of.. sorrow, at the thought of never returning. 

_Because Ratchet brought me here._

He'd been down there, watching her every movement no doubt, she knew very well that grounders had a habit of being _fascinated_ by Seekers--and well, they _did_ like to show off. _I've kept him waiting long enough._ Razorwind started to descend, sweeping back over the lake, cresting the water and casting it along with her one last time.. before she skimmed just low enough to the ground to transform and land on her feet. The lake settled behind her, and in time, it was as if she had never disturbed it. 

Ratchet was leaning back on his arms, and he tilted his helm as Razorwind approached, watching the droplets roll down her plates, they seemed brighter, somehow, as if flying was all they needed. "Did you enjoy the show..?" Razorwind had asked him, playfully, and Ratchet wasn't able to respond before she was on him again, down at the ground, little arms wrapping his frame.. 

And he wouldn't fight her. Because he'd _decided._

"Mmm.. Ratchet," she was whispering to him and kissing him lightly, not even aiming anywhere just wanting her lips to touch his surface. _One last time. Make things complete._ "Let me.. do something for you, okay? I want to give _you_ an overload to remember." _To remember when I'm gone._ "Isn't there _anything_..." she trailed her fingers over him teasingly.. because feeling naughty felt better than feeling sad.. " _Anything_ you'd like?"

All of Ratchet's fans had come online. Twice now he had been with her and _not_ overloaded. Now she was offering. The third time, he broke. "Well I wouldn't mind a pair of tiny lips all over my valve." _Primus, what did I just say! ...maybe I am a perv._

Razorwind didn't reply, simply shifted down Ratchet until she was between his wide legs, fluttering kisses everywhere, all along the inside, going first for the seams of his interface panel and then spreading outward, glossa darting out, drawing over him.. _oh yes.._ Ratchet relaxed his entire body--mmm, when had he last done _that?_ Razorwind's glossa licked a long stripe down the center of his panel and he couldn't help but _groan_ , so.. so perfect. Out of patience with himself and his restrictions--he slid it open and let her in.

The motions stopped for a second, and while it was hard to exactly see what was going on down there, Ratchet realized that she was admiring his spike, it was bright red and thicker than average, and rather underused.. nearly all the times he had interfaced he'd been on bottom, he was a valve mech and he'd freely admit it, well, freely admit it to anyone he was willing to _interface_ , and that was usually exactly what they wanted to hear. But this little seeker was a lot more like _him_ , than like his previous partners.. and he'd felt just how sensitive and tight she was.. the idea of giving her the same pleasure he craved so strongly, the pleasure he _understood_ and could watch unfolding all over that cute little face.. _his spike twitched in response_. 

A kiss to the base of it informed him that she'd _noticed_. But the kisses continued on their way, not forgetting the actual destination. His valve was much warmer, and already well-lubricated.. Ratchet's faceplate heated as he realized just how eagerly wet he was.. until Razorwind kissed the slick edge of the valve and banished his embarrassment, he didn't have processor space for it anymore, it was all being repurposed for _pleasure._

"Ooooh..." _I wanted this too much._

She started to ring her glossa around his port, taking in the taste, charging up the sensors, her little hands were pressed on the inside of his thighs for support, spreading him wider.. for a moment she drew back enough to draw another circular map of kisses around the quivering valve, taking the edges in her lips.. _sucking on them, oh frag,_ before she plunged ahead, pushing her glossa inside, wiggling it, licking him deep and making him moan with delight and.. all those years of pent-up frustration. Lubricant was pooling inside him, Ratchet could feel it, and so could his little seeker because she was licking it up.. and he shuddered every time he heard the smack of her glossa--before she dove right back in. 

_This was not going to last_.It had been too long since anyone had touched him, tasted him like this... though what was there to regret? He'd be more resistant to the same stimulations later, like tonight, hopefully.. if she was interested in doing it again. And he fully intended to interest her in doing it again, right here, on the edge of this lake. Mmm, yes.. he was going to do it.. he'd _frag her_ , he'd let the whole damned planet know that this little seeker was _Ratchet's_ , and the old doc could fix a femme up right in more ways than one. _And may I never accidentally say things like that out loud._

A particularly hard suck to one of his external valve sensors shattered Ratchet's internal monologue, replacing it with an external, "Ah.. frag!" his overload catching him by surprise, he really _was_ out of practice but it was still _amazing_ , the walls of his port were quaking, all the nodes inside cascading into overload and tripping the nodes next to them.. one long chain, a wave that he was riding with. Razorwind had pushed her glossa inside to ride it with him, licking through it, and he'd clenched around it as best he could, drowning it in what had to be a _sea_ of excess lubricant, just wanting to _feel_ more while he still could. She welcomed his desperation, didn't stop the sticky movements of that glossa, and those little lips until he stopped quivering, sensors finally dying down, overstimulated. 

"Unnh.." Ratchet groaned, satisfied and still _charged_ at the same time, as he started to sit up. _When had he ended up flat on his back?_ He looked down to Razorwind, who was pulling her face away from his legs.. it was _drenched_ in shimmering silver--all over her mouth and probably coating _both_ sides of her visor. She looked dazed, pleased with herself, licking at her lips, pulling his fluids in.. _mmmm,_ but he wanted her to see him, see him so _fragged up_ , see her work, so he reached for her visor's manual release, they were all located in the same place, and activated it. 

A 'click' sound confirmed that he had indeed released, it, but the moment Razorwind heard it, realized what he'd _done--_ while she was so _foolishly distracted by all this--_ she sprung backward from Ratchet, slapping a hand over her optics.

_No!_

Instantly alarmed, Ratchet sat up further, not exactly able to chase, his legs sluggish and heavy. What had he done to make her so nervous? Wait...

_'I think she's hiding something from us, Ratchet...'_

A new, disturbed kind of determination filled him. "Show me your optics," he demanded. 

"Please.. Ratchet.." Razorwind begged, but she wasn't exactly sure for what. She couldn't ask the medic to rewind time. 

"Show me!" he insisted, with all the dread and fear hidden by force. _Please don't let this be..._

The hand covering her optics was trembling out of control. _Why hold it here? And hold onto something I never should have had.. am I that much of a coward? Let me face this.. face that which I deserve._ She pulled her hand away, not slowly at all-- _let this be inflicted swiftly.. it's all I can do._ Her red optics blazed into Ratchet's blue, dividing them instantly. 

"Decepticon..." 

"Ratchet--"

"What were you sent for," he interrupted, tone harsh. _Of course he wouldn't want to hear it._

"The formula to synthetic energon," Razorwind stated coldly, her mission was complete and there was _nothing_ that Ratchet--no, this Autobot, could do about it now, "The moment I left the shielding of your base I transferred it to Soundwave. My mission is already complete." 

"So.." Ratchet pieced it together quickly, his circuits running cold, and his spark twisting uncomfortably.. "The attack.. the virus.."

"Staged, to allow me uplink access to your processor," Razorwind confirmed, keeping those red fires trained on Ratchet. _I'll burn you enough that you never long for me. If I can at least do that for you, I will._

_He felt it_. Circuits that were cold moments ago flared hot... Ratchet's face twisted with outrage. Optics dimming, he couldn't help but sputter, his vocalizer so strained with the rush of anger, "A-And, you, all--this! ...Lies!" he finally managed. 

"My story was not a lie, merely incomplete. I am indeed a Knight-Seeker, and I did lie in stasis upon my ship, for all the years between then and now.. and the world I awakened to was indeed strange, and different. But the reason I awakened was because I was _saved_ , by a Decepticon, and my loyalty is forever pledged to Lord Megatron--"

_"Lord Megatron!"_ Ratchet hissed, disbelief beyond even that which he'd felt earlier all over his expression, turning it to something dark and amused.. if he hadn't been so angry, Razorwind swore Ratchet would be moments from laughter.. "LORD Megatron!? Megatron is as much a _Lord,_ as you are a _Knight!_ "

And that was _enough_. She'd blown her cover, made a set of personal enemies, broken a mech's spark and probably her own--she was not going to sit here and take insults to her _Lord_ , the one she'd caused all this mess for.

"I do not expect you to understand," Razorwind spoke with finality, walking to the lake's edge, gathering a handful of water and splashing down her face.. a few times, clearing away this whole incident.. at least what she could, of it. "I must follow the orders I am given," and when she caught her reflection she couldn't help but hear him snarling, echoing to her, shaming her for her actions all over again... _be silent!_ "As such... I will be returning to _The Nemesis_... Next time I meet one of your kind.. may it be in honorable combat."

And she transformed.. she transformed and she hadn't looked back, not since she'd turned to the lake, not since she'd resigned herself to her fate and her place, not for a reply and certainly not for a crying spark. There was no going back.

\---

She'd found somewhere nice and far from the lake to land, contacting _The Nemesis,_ and Soundwave had bridged her back aboard--not congratulating her, as he _couldn't_ exactly, but putting a long claw down on her shoulder as if to say all of it with just one touch. It did make her feel somewhat better. 

And of course, Knock Out had shown up not too long afterward, marvelling at how she actually had managed that one in _one piece_ , and here he was thinking he'd have some major reassembly to do. He actually sounded _disappointed._

Razorwind was eager to have her original chest piece back, and Knock Out obliged, taking her to the med bay and beginning to swap the parts, it was a quick replacement, just a few catches to release here, and... he made sure to do the observation _away_ from Razorwind's view, but it seemed that she had.. _sparkbonding scratches_? _Dear Primus, I am not getting involved in that. Absolutely none of my business._

_Besides, if she's back here, that couldn't have worked out._ He tossed the old chestplate down a scrap chute and prayed that it didn't somehow make its way to Megatron. "You're back to normal, recruit," Knock Out gestured at the completed replacement, "Feel free to bask in your success. While you can. The missions always get harder around here."

She looked down at her insignia and let the pride she always felt when she observed it be a comfort, before standing, ready to take a walk, go back to her quarters, just do _something_ , but as she was nearing the door, it filled with a massive, silver frame.. 

"Lord Megatron!" she quickly acknowledged, dropping to one knee as she always did. 

"Rise, Razorwind," Megatron had a rather light tone to his vocalizer. As Razorwind rose she noticed he was carrying something.. rather, two somethings. So small compared to his giant hands, the scale almost made it hard to recognize that these were _weapons_ , weapons for a frametype far from his own, "You have done well.. In your absence, Soundwave has managed to reestablish communications with Team Chaar. Now that we have the synthetic energon formula.. he will be sending it to them immediately. Oil Slick is a chemical expert--he will refine the formula, likely perfect it. When they succeed in producing enough synthetic energon to power their space bridge, they will join our forces--and combine with the Decepticon army upon this planet... alongside us, we will be able to _overwhelm_ the Autobots. And all, because of you, my Razorwind..."

He'd reached down then, extending the objects he'd been holding, revealing them to be a sword, and shield, custom crafted, blazing blue steel, the same type favored by many of the Knights. The sword was runed, ancient Cybertronian glyphs running down the blade.. _'Cut, Slash, Pain, Gust' ... her name._ The shield was as fearsome as it was solid, depicting the snarling wide maw of a Mechanidrake, raised fangs protruding from the top, scale details expertly carved, even a pair of glaring optics adorned it, designed to both deflect, _and_ intimidate. _As a shield should._

"I am not worthy of such excellent weaponry, my Lord.." and this was probably true--runed swords, much less runed swords saying something so personal as a _name_ and not just bearing traditional declarations of victory, were only produced for the most valorous and exemplary of Knights, those whose deeds were sung of across city-states. She had never achieved such glory. 

"I have found you worthy," was Megatron's reply, and such a statement could not be debated. Razorwind took her armaments from her Lord and fitted them to her frame.. they were the exact perfect sizes and she felt _complete_ , in a strange way she didn't know she needed. "Thank you.. my Lord. You are most kind." she looked up with a bright visor, and Megatron's fangs curled ever so slightly.

"Come--I want to see you test them," Megatron stepped out of the door, and Razorwind was quick to follow, "there is already an opponent waiting for you, in the arena."

Razorwind shifted to her Lord's side, walking with him, feeling her pride returning to her.. spirit lifting at last. Yes, this was where she belonged. And she would give her Lord a most wonderful demonstration--as her gratitude... for _everything._

\---

The arena was well lit, in comparison to the rest of _The Nemesis_.. gleaming silver and black metals, scraped and well worn, made a solid, easily gripped flooring. This was a place for _fighting_ , and it had been going on when she'd arrived, various vehicons and eradicons honing their skills, some practicing solo but others brawling with each other--they'd broken up a rather interesting match between two vehicons grappling with Megatron's demand for everyone to clear to the spectating area or leave. 

A gate on the far side of the arena _wooshed_ open, and Razorwind steeled herself. _Come, opponent._

Stepping forth from the blackness of the gate, was LAN-c3R, though not as she had ever seen him before. He was carrying a long bladelance, which was a mix of jagged edges and colors--pieced together from various materials, perhaps mining equipment. Still, the way it gleamed, and possessed not so much as a tiny _rattle_ as he swung it in a displaying circle, meant it was well crafted and cared for, likely done by LAN-c3R himself. 

"My lady!" he called across the field, "I wish to congratulate you on your great success! And declare that it is my _honor_ , to assist you with your new weaponry."

"LAN-c3R," she had been meaning to correct him, "I am no Lady to be honored so. Simply a fellow servant of Lord Megatron, the same as you." She bowed her head, displaying that she held no rank over him.

"Ever humble," LAN-c3R pointed out, his optic strip raising just one register brighter.. "That is what makes you worthy of the title. But I will not press the issue.. Razorwind. Whenever you are ready.." he trailed off, getting into an aggressive stance. Bladelancers were some of the most ferocious warriors she knew--they fought without shields, relying on the overwhelming power of their weapons, along with their own agility, to avoid blows while they dispatched foes swifter than they could tire. They'd _have_ to. The patch of the Bladelancer was often considered willingly courting deactivation, exposing so much in exchange for such _power_.

Razorwind was eager to see just how much of the old style this drone knew. 

"Let us begin the duel," she spoke, getting into her own stance, balanced for now.. if the time came to press she would be ready. "I am Razorwind, Knight-Seeker." 

"And I am LAN-c3R, Eradicon Squad Leader!" he'd _roared_ his introduction, as that was all that was left between them and _combat._ Combat that was going to start with some _sparks_. Quickly he lunged, biting out with his bladelance, testing Razorwind. She'd deflected it easily, catching it with her shield, but neither could deny the hard shockwave that ran through them both, when they'd collided. Many times he'd defeated fellow drones with shields by simply hitting them so hard they flew from their hands. Not so, with a proper Knight, he observed.

"Not bad," Razorwind quipped, sizing up the situation. His reach was far superior.. but his weapon was narrow. Bashing it to the side would leave him open to attack... but he should know that, and have a response. _Well let's see what it would be._

She'd pulled back, letting LAN-c3R advance--at the next thrust she was quick, shoving her shield at it, blunting it off to the side.. there was the opening! Except it was gone as soon as it appeared, she heard his hands shift grip along the shaft of his weapon, yanking it upward, one quick sidestep and now _she_ was the one thrusting at nothing, as a massive blade was swinging down towards the top of her helm. _He's good!_

Dropping and rolling, Razorwind was barely away from where the impact sounded as LAN-c3R's weapon gouged a huge chunk out of the floor. Under normal circumstances her opponent would be vulnerable after missing such a heavy hit.. but she wasn't exactly on her feet.. by the time she was up he was already recovered, charging again.. this was going to require some _risk_ , after all. 

_Will have to time this perfectly._..

Razorwind stood fast with her shield, as if she intended to catch the lance thrust head on, but at the last second, she lifted the shield.. giving the blade clearance to pass under it.. straight toward her exposed frame.. at least for a second, before she slammed the shield back down with all her might, causing the jagged teeth of the mismatched material to bite down into the ground. Releasing her shield, the weight would only slow this down, she leapt, both hands on her sword, pushing off the ground and swooping back to it with a downward arc... which at the last second she blunted, using her shield hand to rotate the sword hilt, ringing a heavy SMACK into LAN-c3R's shoulder, denting it. 

He _crumpled_ to his knees, the weight of the blow more than it had appeared. "Urgh!" his vocalizer spat, along with a hiss of static. _Defeated_.

"And the match is complete..." Megatron's voice boomed from the side as he stepped into the arena. "Razorwind claims victory... LAN-c3R.. you are dismissed."

LAN-c3R recovered his weapon and snapped into a salute. He wasn't bitter for the loss, in fact, his spark was still rushing from being able to clash, actually _clash_ with a real Knight..

"And LAN-c3R... your skills are quite good.. for a drone," Megatron continued, "you should take up a training position.. See Soundwave about that, when he is available."

_Now his spark was racing for a whole other reason._ He'd already been fairly high up on the drone chain of command. Having yet another title.. well, dreaming of ever becoming an officer was foolish, but hey.. he could _dream anyway!_

"I will, my Lord!" LAN-c3R bowed his helm and then retreated back into the gate he'd emerged from... but not before opening a quick private comlink to Razorwind, and closing it as soon as he'd spoken, "Have fun tonight.. my lady.. try not to get broken this time." That look in Megatron's optics was _obvious_. 

Razorwind fought down the heating of her faceplates. _For a mech with such a love for nobility, he can certainly be indecent when he wants to!_

Of course he wasn't wrong. Megatron's field was flaring hot and bearing down on her.. as he shamelessly ran his glossa over his fangs. 

"We have matters to... discuss.. in my quarters, Razorwind," he purred, gesturing toward the exit. "and while I suppose we could settle them _here_ ," Megatron smirked, "I think you would appreciate the privacy. Come." 

"At once.. my Lord," Razorwind nodded.. grateful he hadn't had the spontaneous idea to frag her in front of a large number of drones, and ready to erase all the previous touches that wanted to linger on her plating. This would certainly banish them... she hoped. 

\---

Far from _The Nemesis_ , two Autobots shared an uneasy space. 

"We have our privacy," came the commanding, yet warm voice of Optimus Prime, "Tell me what happened."

Ratchet slumped, having dreaded and yet needed this hour to come all day, and not knowing _where_ to start. When he'd come back through the groundbridge _alone,_ he'd immediately been asked about Razorwind, why she wasn't there, but luckily Optimus had been the one asking and the flurry of horrible emotions that crossed his faceplate had told him more than enough, for that moment. "Tell the others that she wanted to leave--and that you allowed it. When we can speak privately, you may tell me what occurred out there."

"Well.." he began. _I let a Decepticon spy steal dangerous information because I'm lonely and I fell for a pretty femme._ "Razorwind is a Decepticon. She was sent by Megatron to steal the formula for synthetic energon, and in this, she was successful. The attack by the Decepticon drones and the virus, they were all simply tools to lure me into uplinking her, during which I was hacked, and the formula was extracted. And yes, I've already scanned for traces of anything Soundwave could have left on me. So far it's clear.. the only thing that's wrong with me is that I'm a lonely old fool, oh, and soon the Decepticons will have access to _superfuel_. If they don't already."

"Ratchet..." Optimus understood the gravity of the situation, but the way his friend's frame hung so pitifully was painful to behold. "Ratchet you can't blame yourself for this. Decepticons _deceive_ us, and while we are vigilant, we cannot be so to the point of paranoia. Your actions, all our actions were in the defense of someone we believed to be a victim. You were only acting as you _should,_ with care and concern for another."

"But I was not vigilant!" the medic snapped, frame shaking. "There were warning signs, I should have known something was wrong! Primus, Arcee--she tried to _tell_ me that night and I _wouldn't listen!_ "

And here Optimus was the one to vent heavily.. "Indeed.." he acknowledged, he knew, "there had been signs. Even I observed.. she seemed especially _afraid_ of me.. except when I mentioned that I would defeat Megatron. Then.. as small as she was, and even without view of her optics, I could see it in her face. She would have challenged me _herself_ , to stop me from harming him. I know what _determination_ looks like, Ratchet. Her loyalty to Megatron is true. I do not doubt her claim of being one of the Knights."

It was silent.. Ratchet didn't want to think about Razorwind's devotion to... Megatron. Admirable as loyalty was.. not to that monster.

Optimus continued, "Often.. we do not see the suspicious.. even the dangerous qualities, in those that we care for.. not until it's too late--because we don't _want_ to see them. We want to believe in them," he hung his helm, ever so slightly.. "You know I would never fault you for this, when it is _nothing_ compared to what I have allowed to happen, with my negligence."

And Ratchet _stayed_ silent. What could he say to that?

"But Ratchet.. I can offer you a different warning as well, for I have made more mistakes in my life, than just one. And the mistakes I had made branching from the original.. have made things worse," he paused, as if he, the _Prime_ , would have to search for the courage to continue, "Do not close your spark. Do not cut off your feelings. If you loved her, do not let it _die_ , Ratchet. There are nights I lie awake and I wish for the chance to go back--to the days when perhaps I could have fought this war with _words_ and not guns.. or soldiers. But instead I was afraid... of what Megatron had become and of what I had become to lead our people. And I was too caught up in being on the side of _justice_ , to realize that even if I did prevail in the end--as we shall, as we must... that the cost of choosing this particular path may have been _too much_."

His optics were flickering between brightness levels.. and Ratchet tried not to stare at them, even as they held him... "Would it have _destroyed_ me, back when Megatron was declaring war on Cybertron, back when everything was still fresh, still new.. would it have destroyed me to call to him, tell him that we could have worked _together_ , tell him that I _loved him_ and that I wouldn't give that up? That the _Prime_ would stand with him for all eternity and that if he would just come and negotiate, we could settle our differences reasonably? I could have told him, told the whole planet. Made it known to every Cybertronian that the Prime and Megatron were sparkbonded--surely that would have given them reason to believe me," his hands curled into fists.. shaking with all the missed opportunities, "I had the courage to face the most dangerous gladiator in the history of combat, head on, just me and him. But I didn't have the courage to admit that the Slagmaker himself was my sparkbond.. that I was _his_ , and that... _that was all I ever wanted to be_. I let my desire to remain in good standing with my followers--get them killed."

"Prime.." Ratchet felt like he was being wrenched.. "Prime I.."

"I want you to remember her," Optimus ordered, optics suddenly hard and cool, right on his medic's, "What was it like.. how did she make you feel.. tell me, Ratchet. Did you love her?"

"With all my spark," he admitted freely, not daring to be afraid after all Optimus had just bared, "She was so sweet, those tiny lips, and her voice, even if she was _teasing me_ , and she would.. I could have held her _forever_. I wanted to. She could have kept me running without energon," and the coolant had found its way to his optics. _Slag._ He wiped with his hand, but that didn't do anything but clear space for more coolant. And his fans were sputtering.. his insides clanking fitfully. _He was really breaking down over this._

At least, until a pair of large, warm arms encircled him.. a pair of steady lips brushed at the top of his helm. His body gave in, _immediately_ , being comforted would be very welcome.. but his processor had a reply.. "Optimus... I know your affections are not for me.."

"And neither are yours for me. But it is a need for affection we share, and together I believe we can soothe at least a degree, of the other's suffering.." he spoke so calmly, holding Ratchet tightly, like he'd protect him at all costs, like he needed something to cling to, to keep from falling to his doom, "Tonight, old friend... Let us be an _imperfect pair_."

\---

Mmm, he couldn't get enough of those soft, tiny lips.. the little arches of her frame.. the squeaks she made when he scraped his fangs over her mouth.. all the ways she reacted to his presence. 

Which was why he was starting to get rather _frustrated_. 

He had Razorwind pinned against the head of his berth, holding her up as he nipped and kissed and _played_ with her, of all of his Decepticons she alone brought out this _urge_ in him, to not just sate his desires but sate something _lighter_ , that dwelled in his spark. And he enjoyed it. But she didn't seem to be enjoying _herself_ , and while Megatron could just do what he usually would and not care, it disturbed him that something could possibly be _lacking_ in his performance. 

And it wasn't his performance, it was simply that Razorwind was too caught up in _listening_ to react. Listening to their sparkbeats.. as they were so different. Not once would the beats fall together, _not once_. Why wouldn't they..? Destiny had clearly picked wrong.. could it not choose again? Let her be with her Lord and not some Autobot she'd disgraced and abandoned...

Her optics were distant.. And while she made some effort to push her lips back into his kisses, there was no involuntary arch of her frame, no squeaks when he scraped, and no _excitement_. After not getting her to keen for him when he'd dragged his glossa across the roof of her mouth, something he damned well _knew_ should have sent thrills across her frame, Megatron growled, biting into her neck--and _hard_. _That will get your attention._

"Ah!" she cried sharply, coming back to reality. "M-my Lord..?" she questioned, noticing that he was glaring. 

"Tell me what is distracting you from me," Megatron demanded, voice low and angry. "What happened to you while you were with those Autobots, that has you like.. this."

And he was instantly presented with a fearful streak through her optics, one that told of knowing and not wanting to tell--he'd seen it a million times in a million different young recruits who thought hiding _anything_ from their Lord was going to keep them alive a bit longer. It _never_ did. "What did they say to you!" he raised his vocalizer, suddenly gripping Razorwind tight--much tighter than was comfortable, "Did they try to turn you from me!?"

"No, no my Lord!" Razorwind whimpered, scared and desperate to remain true in her Lord's eyes, never would she allow anyone to sway her from him, never! "No, they did not! They could not..." _But you have to tell him what happened..._ She couldn't withhold information from him. She had told so many lies already. She would _never_ lie to Lord Megatron. "I ended up being.. intimate with the Autobot medic. During this.. my spark.. on its own, attempted to merge with his. I did not, I stopped it before it could happen but it _tried_ , and I have been deeply troubled by it!" 

Megatron's optics just seemed to widen as she had gone on.. finally settling on narrowing dangerously at the end. "You.. attempted to sparkbond.. an AUTOBOT!" he shouted, fangs bared, and Razorwind shrunk frantically, wincing.. "Please! My Lord.. it was not _intentional!_ And I fled, I escaped shortly after this, I could not allow such a risk to continue! My spark is _yours_ , as is the rest of me, I could never give them to our enemy!" 

She was trembling with fear, and Megatron kept gripping her.. fuming.. rage threatening to overtake him.. and yet he still could hold back.. She had _returned_ , she had run from what could only have been a _destined_ spark bond, and come back to him, and _successful_ , at that. She had only shown him loyalty, even as her spark was traitorous--and as long as it hadn't truly _bonded_ , it would not be a pawn of the Autobots' to use against him. 

He vented.. letting the heated air rush over her, showing her his anger dissipating, replacing itself with a dangerous, calm warmth, smoldering.. threatening.. "The actions you have taken.. currently outweigh those you have _avoided_ taking. But I warn you, Razorwind.. the _only_ time your spark will merge with that Autobot's--is in the Well of All Sparks!" and he snapped his fangs and burned his optics into her, "Do you UNDERSTAND me?" 

And she _wanted_ to understand, she wanted nothing more than to live simply for following the orders of her Lord, but just the _thought_ of _never_ bonding with Ratchet, made her hurt inside in ways she couldn't even describe. "Yes, my Lord. I understand," she'd answered, knowing there was no other option, and Megatron.. he saw the insincerity along with the conflict, he knew that tangle of emotions. 

"One day.." he'd leaned in now, lips and fangs directly on her audio receptor, "You should _hope_ you are given the opportunity.. to offline that _worthless_ Autobot, extinguish that spark with your bare hands, and present it to me, as the ultimate proof of your loyalty..." and here he his vocalizer dropped to a cold, cruel whisper, "Even if your spark should collapse afterward. Even if you should die _\--slowly, screaming inside_ \--from the _sheer pain_.." 

Razorwind shivered, never before feeling true _fear_ , true _dread,_ for her Lord. Coolant pooled in her eyes and she didn't bother to try holding back, as it streaked down her face. _Monstrous.. How could he suggest such a thing..._

Heavy silver lips swept the coolant from her face, and sharp fangs bit at her neck, not light, not playful, _possessive_. 

"Giving up something so sacred as a _destined sparkbond_ , for the Decepticon cause.. is the highest honor.. my Razorwind.." Megatron bored his optics into hers and relished in seeing them so _pained_. 

_A pain that they would both share._

\---

"Optimussss..." Ratchet was moaning wantonly at this point, his pace was too slow and this had been going on _forever_ and it was so _fragging good_ , and yet the way it was being drawn out made him feel like he could literally melt down. "I thought you wanted to _soothe_ me, not _torment_ me."

"I am merely giving you an extensive memory for playback," Optimus remarked, smiling as he rolled his hips deep again, burying his spike into Ratchet's valve, which was shuddering and getting lubricant all over them both.. "But if you wish to overload _now.._ "

"Frag yes I do!" Ratchet _screamed_ , and Optimus simply smiled wider, grasping hold of Ratchet's legs and really starting to slam them together. _"Oh frag.. frag!_ Optimus! Hard--just like that, unh.. _but harder_! _"_ Ratchet had no filter anymore.. he tossed his helm backward and crashed it into the berth and Optimus's grin spread further.. He'd forgotten what a joy interfacing was in all his years of sorrow and solitude, and even if he wasn't with his sparkbond he could still relish in the utter happiness it gave him to provide pleasure to another. And have some fun with his dear friend... "Mmmh, is that how you like it, Ratchet? A nice spike _deep_ in your valve, fragging you hard? Hmm?" he didn't expect a reply.. he just liked to do this.. express himself while he interfaced.. " _Primus,_ you're so slick, so wet for me.. how long has it been since someone fragged you.. _old friend_?" _And damn if Prime couldn't make such a kindly nickname sound absolutely sexy with that voice._

"Ah.. ah.. ah!" was the only answer--words were _not_ going to happen right now. In fact, nothing was going to happen right now but the overload that was rapidly building itself up. "Unnnh-h..." Ratchet _begged,_ and Optimus somehow, understood and obliged, taking one of his legs up just a bit _higher_ and striking that angle that crashed his systems. 

A furious shout of static and sparks flew out of Ratchet's vocalizer and he overloaded fiercely, valve clutching at Optimus's massive spike and making him grunt with pleasure, parts of his frame locking up with strain and his optics blinding white with too much charge. He fell back into the berth after a moment, entire system wavering, he wasn't about to go offline but he definitely _could_ , and whenever he _did,_ he'd recharge soundly, and for a nice long time.

"Oh frag Optimus..." Ratchet managed to push through a fritzing vocalizer, "that was.. what was.."

"Good?" his Prime asked, looking something between amused and still very aroused. He hadn't overloaded yet. 

"Beyond," Ratchet answered, a smirk finding its way to his tiring faceplate. "But you still haven't.."

"Well you don't look ready to offline yet," Optimus answered his concerns, before shifting down, laying himself before his medic on the extra large berth. He spread his legs open without pause and let Ratchet take in the sight of _his valve_ , which was such a _pretty_ blue color except that it was slicked all over with silvery lubricant and... Wait, the Prime--wanted to be _spiked_. 

"Well well.." Ratchet chuckled to himself, getting onto his knees, running a few checking fingers over a spike that was indeed, still fully pressurized. "I never would have guessed the Prime liked to _take it._ "

He caught Optimus's optics, which had wandered back up from where they had been admiring his spike.. seeing a.. kind of lust in them he hadn't before. Like he was _remembering_. "Megatron is _always_ on top." 

"Perhaps one day, you will change that," Ratchet offered, wondering.. unable to tear his processor away from the images it was spawning. 

"No..." Optimus's voice was so low now, so achingly heated.. "That would be a waste.. of his _talent_."

And Ratchet couldn't help but picture it, his Prime, his _beautiful_ Prime, moaning that _voice of his_ , as Megatron, he was so large, so much _raw power_ , fragged him into the berth and growled while he did it, those terrible fangs and those intense optics.. _Mmm.._ He hated Megatron, at least he was pretty sure, but when he really thought about it--he was _dangerously_ attractive. 

_And he was one good frag_ , for Optimus to be reacting like _this_ , just from _thinking_ about it. 

_Primus. Here I am, about to spike the Prime, getting charged to the idea that Megatron--Megatron of all mechs, did this to him, and well._

_There is truly something wrong with me. There is truly something wrong with us all._

\---

The slow pounding of Megatron's spike was getting... _painful_.

He'd forced countless overloads from her and had quite a few himself, but it took more than a _few_ to satisfy Megatron, and he wouldn't be done until he _felt like it,_ plain and simple. 

Razorwind was pinned heavily beneath him, face slicking along the berth, which was coated in spent fluids.. Megatron was taking his time, perhaps just letting his processor catch up to the rest of him, shoving into Razorwind's sore port harshly, before pulling out slowly, savoring the stretch drawing along him.. and then repeating... grunting when the need took him, clutching at her with his claws.

"Mine... you are _mine_ ," he spoke the words he'd been previously repeating with his thrusting. 

Razorwind would only surrender. All the pain in her valves, and the weight pressing down on her, making her helpless, tired... this was happening because this was her will.. _it was.._

"Yours, my Lord... all yours..." she sobbed... as he started thrusting quickly again, and she felt her valve _tearing_.

\---

Ratchet's systems were thrumming happily, as Optimus held him close. Even still, they were both quiet.. each thinking about someone else.

He decided to break the moment of yearning, at least temporarily. "I think the joke going around was right. I really did need a good interface. I thank you.. Optimus."

Lips he couldn't see nuzzled the back of his helm, "No need to thank me. My actions were partially selfish, you know that. I was reminded of.. how much my spark still aches. The need to _feel_ another, _connect_ with another... was too much."

And Ratchet felt so.. weary, when he'd heard that. Regretful. A strange bittersweet was mixing in with the warm, post-interface feeling, and making something that made him ache to the core.. He didn't even realize what he was saying. "Is this how we're destined to lose this war? As desperate old fools, lovesick for the enemy?"

The lips on his helm stilled, drew back, retreated to their owner. "Perhaps it is..." came Optimus's reply, heavy.. more than heavy. _Burdened_.

Optimus let Ratchet drift into recharge, holding him, doing what he could to soothe him with his field. But even as they'd shared a wonderful night, they'd done so because they'd spent so many nights wanting and wishing that they'd likely have broken if they hadn't. At least that was how he felt. 

_Megatron._ He'd spent all this time thinking about him, dreaming of him, in his processor even as he'd moaned for Ratchet to finish him--and now his spark was upset at the very _idea_ of putting those thoughts away. _No_. Instead it called, no, more like _screamed_ into the distance at something it couldn't reach and Optimus literally felt his chest _clenching_ as it did. 

_'The only solution I have found is to defeat Megatron, and force his followers to surrender.'_ His own words repeated themselves, quietly in the back of his thoughts. ' _Defeat Megatron...'_

_And if I did, I would offline at that very moment._

He'd always thought of it as just another sacrifice he'd have to make.

\---

Razorwind was locked in fitful recharge, struggling against _something_ , in Megatron's arms, stirring now and then and trembling. He held her close, not to comfort, not to chase those pitspawn away but to ensure their torment did not drive her from _him_ , for nothing would be permitted to do so, _nothing_. 

And it was in that moment, that his spark, dark and silent, _poisoned by his own hands_ , and thought to be forever discouraged from chasing after its mate--twinged heavily in his chest and _reached_. Reached because it was being _called_. 

_Optimus..._ Megatron grit his fangs together and resisted, thinking of his arch enemy strictly in terms of being his _opponent_. _What are you doing, Optimus? What are you thinking, calling for me, like this... now?_

_Do you think I am weak enough to answer!?_ _Do you think that I am afraid of killing you?_

_'Giving up something so sacred as a destined sparkbond, for the Decepticon cause.. is the highest honor..'_

_That I am afraid of dying myself?_

Without Optimus, the Autobots would have nothing that could withstand the Decepticons--they had always been _weaker_ , it was their damned Prime--with all his ancient wisdom and favor from Primus--that kept his forces from victory, not _anything_ else, for anything else that was their advantage he had long since destroyed.

Optimus Prime would have to be offlined--and when he was, the Decepticons would finally have removed the last obstacle, the last thing keeping them from annihilating the Autobots, reclaiming Cybertron, and then conquering all of the universe. 

And Megatron had accepted, known from the start, known the moment that Fate had made Optimus the leader of the enemy faction, that this eventual victory would _not_ be his to partake in. It would be his people, his race, the race of perfect warriors he had _crafted_ , guided along. That they all had interfaced with him, shared with him the deepest part of themselves--he'd done this to them all so that they could _never_ forget him, and so that he would live on, in each and every _one_ of those insignias. 

_I have already made my decision._ Megatron hissed down at his spark, desperately trying to silence it, make it _stop_ , stop ignoring his will, stop trying to have what it could not, just... _stop already!_

He'd spend that entire night trying to ignore it. Trying to forget that he _still loved_ Optimus Prime, and he always would.

  
  


  
  


  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reading Chapter Four, you win a free ticket to Weird Puppet Theater!  
> And the first person to review, gets to sit next to Knock Out.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5 at last! For.. all you people who I am sure were hanging on the edge of your seats for it. Ahem.  
> Yeah, I like to pretend someone besides me reads this. Well, writing for the sake of self-improvement is just as rewarding!
> 
> +1000 cookies to anyone who squeals with delight at LAN-c3R's team.. but if you're on the internet reading fanfiction and at least old enough to remember (original) Toonami, I think they're a reference that's impossible to miss.

Lugnut was really _much_ better at these emotional things.

He'd noticed right away, after all. The moment they had finally achieved what for so long was thought impossible--and bridged Team Chaar _back_ , back from being _lost forever._

The synthetic energon was a success, glowing success, Oil Slick had called it, though even at this very moment he was likely in his lab, processing it, refining it, it wasn't ready to be used as a fuel substitute on living Cybertronians, not without dangerous consequences, he stressed, and Megatron, usually not known for his patience with experiments, was surprisingly complacent. Perhaps it was just that he felt it wasn't necessary just yet. Their Lordship had plenty to be pleased about already.

But when the Decepticons of _The Nemesis_ had gathered around to witness the return of Team Chaar, Strika hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary, behind Razorwind's crisp half-bow and her simple acknowledgement.

_"General Strika, Team Chaar. It is good to see you all again."_

It had taken Lugnut all of two nights to start _worrying_. He'd certainly been expecting their recruit to come burning down their door their first night back. Toughest, bulkiest mech in the galaxy and Luggy was a damned romantic on top of it. Always made Strika want to punch him in the faceplates.. and then kiss him.

"Lugnut.. We are two _brutes_ , and she has spent months aboard a starship full of Megatron's _finest_. Ha! It doesn't surprise me that she has moved on..." she reasoned, trying to keep things light. Lugnut always got so attached to his lovers. A dose of reality would do him some good.

But Lugnut only scrunched his faceplates up, the way he always did when he wasn't _quite_ convinced, and let himself still into the berth.. "No, Strika. Something is _wrong_ ," he simply repeated. 

And unfortunately, Strika--came to agree.

Only because Razorwind seemed to go out of her way to make it _obvious_ , though. The return of Team Chaar had meant the return of her ship, _The Pride_ , and while technically it belonged to the Decepticon Space Force now, Razorwind had taken to it like it was her personal home once again, spending long days aboard it even as it did nothing more interesting than follow _The Nemesis_ on autopilot. 

You'd think after so long in stasis, a bot wouldn't want to head back to their prison. 

Unless they had something to avoid. 

Which, as Strika tried, in vain of course, for the last time her patience would afford, to contact Razorwind at her quarters aboard _The Nemesis_ , since after all, the femme had to at least stop in to fuel and recharge... she concluded must be the case. 

And that's why she was standing here, and _not_ Lugnut. Because she'd be scrapped and melted if she let him try to cuddle this problem away. That didn't get _results._

Soft footsteps behind her caused Strika to turn, though she was not exactly optimistic enough to expect to see the mini-seeker she was looking for. 

"General Strika," LAN-c3R quickly bowed his head, and Strika waved it off, not used to the formality aboard this ship yet. On Chaar she'd just been the boss of a few mechs who respected her for her prowess, and not her title. 

"You're looking for Razorwind too, huh? Already departed for her--the other ship, then," Strika noted sternly, "she has been difficult to contact."

LAN-c3R vented, slumping his shoulders, just a bit, formality discarded in exchange for a shared concern with the giant femme before him. "Something happened between her and Lord Megatron, I know that. She doesn't want to see him, or _anyone_. I was hoping that coming by this early would give me the chance to talk to her before she left. Drones don't have clearance to board _The Pride._ "

"Well I do," Strika had made up her mind. Avoiding herself and Lugnut was one thing. Avoiding their Lord was another. This was no longer a somewhat confusing _emotional_ matter, this was a matter of unacceptable Decepticon conduct. One she intended to _correct_. 

She'd have to take a bridge to get over there, but she was going over there, and now. With that decided, she turned from LAN-c3R and started off down the walkway, intent on paying Soundwave a visit. 

On the way, she passed a second Eradicon, who snapped into a quick salute until she'd cleared him, then made his way to his companion, still standing rather blankly in front of Razorwind's door. 

"So you didn't catch her, I'm guessin'," he quipped, leaning against the wall, curling his fingers around the length of chain he kept. Apparently a modification based on some kind of human style, LAN-c3R's second-in-command had a retractable chain placed at the base of his neck, upon which he kept all kinds of little tools, especially lockpicks, which he collected. They clinked along in his claws as he toyed with the chain, bringing LAN-c3R out of his thoughts. 

"No.. and don't think I'm trying to avoid _you guys_ , 02. If she'd answer her comlink I wouldn't do this, but.."

"I get it, your girlfriend won't pick up your calls," and here 02 flashed his visor, smiling the way an Eradicon can. 

"She's not--" LAN-c3R caught himself before he sounded _completely_ ridiculous. How many times had he heard his fellow drones say this same sentence.. albeit without the _she_ part, "You know it was the Knights that inspired me to become what I am, today.." he offered instead, because that was a lot closer to the truth. And 02 knew it.

"You did change your name because of them.. our handsome Bladelancer," 02 laughed for just a moment, before leveling his visor at LAN-c3R's, "and you don't want to see her hurting. I get it. But hey, don't worry. The Space General's on it now. She'll straighten her up. Or flatten her. Either way something's gonna happen, right? Now let's get moving.. the others are getting itchy, if you know what I mean. The kind only their _leader_ can scrape."

"Very well, 02.. Let's not keep them waiting," LAN-c3R resigned, letting the issue go, for now. It wasn't like he had any other option, anyway.

\---

_'Even if your spark should collapse afterward. Even if you should die--slowly, screaming...'_

_Even if I should die._

Moments from her past, flooded back to her, lessons from wise old mechs who now were likely nothing more than dust upon the blasted face of Cybertron...

"The Black Knights are no less virtuous than we are," came the voice of Mirrorcoat, Knight-Exemplar, and Initiate Trainer, a glorious and shining silver mech who had trained every Initiate to stroll down the halls of Castle Drakemount, since it was _built_. He'd been a war hero, way back in his past, from the very same conflicts that had born legends like Fireheart--though Razorwind was always too nervous to ask him.. about her.

"I refuse to believe that," came the voice of some.. Iaconian Initiate, a sneer seemingly permanently plastered across his face. Razorwind had been thinking the same thing, but he'd spoken up before she could even phrase it. "The Black Knights are bound to _murderers."_

Mirrorcoat only shook his head, "A Knight's vow to their Lord is eternal, Initiate. I do believe you yourself, were the one to recite this, during last week's lessons?"

"But--" 

And here Mirrorcoat's expression had grown hard as steel and just as cold. "There is no but, Initiate. And those we have come to call the Black Knights, have not forgotten. Shaping destiny, for lands and people, is the work of a Lord. It is not our place to consider our orders, but to carry them out. There are an endless number of perspectives when it comes to right, and wrong. What satisfies the leadership of one kingdom may destroy the homeland of another. Yet we, as Knights, are fortunate. We never need to _consider_. Only act."

_Even if I should die._

_Screaming._

"What do you think of that, Razorwind?" Rockwrecker had asked long after they'd been let out of lessons for the day, as the two Seekers perched atop the spires of their section of the Castle. There were few Seeker-Initiates this year. Fewer every year. There was plenty of space to speak and be alone.

"About the Black Knights?" and her companion had nodded, looking out over the land. "It is hard.. to see things through a different set of optics. To us, they are dreaded, despised. But perhaps.. to them, we are as well. Well, not us Initiates."

"I cannot help but be afraid, though. What if the Lord I pledge myself to.. ends up an enemy to the very alliance I once served? Will I turn my weapon upon this Castle and all within it?"

"In all likelihood, you will end up serving Winglord Blastburn, my companion. And you trust his judgement, do you not?" Razorwind offered, trying to keep her friend's worry from spreading too far into her own thoughts. 

"I... do. I do trust the Winglord," Rockwrecker ended.

_She'd never noticed just how uncertain he sounded before._

"Then you will simply do as the Knight-Exemplar has instructed us. And act--

_Even if I should die._

_Slowly._

\--for I will be by your side, do not forget."

"Razorwind!" boomed a voice from out of the darkness, dispelling the memories, both ancient and recent. The Knight-Seeker nearly jumped, turning around sharply.

"General Strika," she was quick to lower her head, but Strika took a step forward and demanded Razorwind's optics rise along with her.

"You have disappointed me, recruit," Strika began, expression harsh--well, harsher. Hands coming to rest upon massive hips, the warframed giant took an observational stance, shaking her head along with it. "And before you continue to do so, I want to know what has caused you to run.. from your duties."

And here she was, confronted. A thinking version of Razorwind would have known this was coming eventually. But lately, she hadn't been doing a lot of thinking--well, outside of this very narrow, but pressing topic. 

"General--" 

"Just call me Strika, Razorwind. One of the last times we spoke we were proposing to interface each other."

The reminder made her faceplates burn.. but thankfully enough, made it easier to just.. speak her mind. 

"I had never before experienced cruelty, from Lord Megatron, Strika. Though I had heard all of Lugnut's tales. All of his declarations. Heard his legacy, and yet.. I had never expected the savagery of the Warlord of Kaon to fall.. upon one of his own. Upon me."

And here Strika's mouthplates shifted.. she had known it would be this. Megatron was a great Lord, wise and powerful.. but his wrath was even greater, and she had known many fools over the ages who had provoked it.. and their painful deaths were all recorded upon her processor. So her recruit had displeased Megatron.

"What did you do to deserve this?" Strika asked plainly, knowing that there _had_ to be a reason. Megatron did not act without rationality. Ever. 

"During my mission to infiltrate the Autobots.. and return with the formula for synthetic energon.. I nearly sparkbonded with the Autobot medic. I was entranced. I had never wanted something _so much_ , in my existence, Strika." Razorwind ended, dropping her helm to the floor. It shamed her to admit this, to herself or anyone, "When Lord Megatron discovered this, he was... enraged."

"And was that not his right?" Strika responded quickly. Sympathy was not her strong point. "The Autobots are the sworn enemies of all Decepticons. Sparkbonding one of them.. would be treason."

"I fled from them fearing that, Strika. My loyalty is--"

"Not being demonstrated currently," the larger femme interrupted bluntly, "you are still online. You do not appear to be harmed. Lord Megatron has shown you _mercy_ , not cruelty. And even if he had chosen to tear out your spark--did you not vow it to him, in your Initiation? What part of you does not belong to him, can he not do with, as he pleases? Did you mean your words, Razorwind? When you pledged to him?" 

And there they were, the old lessons coming out of the past. 

_"The Black Knights are no less virtuous than we are..."_

_We never need to consider._

_..._

_My Razorwind... Decepticon!_

"I meant every one of them," Razorwind lifted her head at long last, visor already retracted, red optics bright and blazing with new determination.

 _Enough._ I have been weak. And I had forgotten _what I am._ "I am glad.. you came to see me, Strika."

The Space General only smiled--the kind of smile Lugnut would, that emotional wreck. "Straightening out recruits is what I do, Razorwind. And as your superior, I order you to return to _The Nemesis_. The drone.. LAN-c3R, he was looking for you. You will see him."

Razorwind lowered her visor with a sharp snap, her body following suit, bowing before Strika, ready to depart.

"At once."

\---

In an amusing reversal, it was now LAN-c3R who wasn't answering _his_ comlink. 

His team all shared a single space in the Eradicon sector of the ship, which was where Razorwind had decided to look for them, but all she was greeted with was the sound of her own knocking on the door. 

"They're not in there," came the voice of a drone from down the hall, who had noticed her. " LAN-c3R's team went to the washracks a while ago. And ah... they're probably having some _personal time_ right now, um.. if you know what I mean.." he trailed off, probably not sure just how far to take this idea. Razorwind had noticed that the drones were never sure _how_ to address her, she was no officer, but she was not like them. Apparently no one else on the ship had such a status. Then again.. when was the last time there was a _new_ Decepticon?

A part of Razorwind was considering leaving, and returning later. _Personal time_ for LAN-c3R and his team..

_What a sight that would be._

And she _was_ under orders... 

She wouldn't _dream_ of disobeying them.

The Eradicon washracks weren't far from their sector, logically, and they were designated a public space on _The Nemesis_ , the drones weren't really afforded any kind of privacy. The sounds of heated water and solvent sprays could be heard before even approaching, but it was like the whole place was roaring by the time you arrived. Activity aboard the ship was nonstop, there were always Eradicons returning from missions _somewhere_ , and they all wanted to get cleaned up as their first priority. These winged drones must have been created using Seeker programming.

Razorwind's presence at the entrance caused a murmur of conversation to mix into the sounds of the rushing streams, but before she could even decide which of the small groups gathered around the doorway to direct her to LAN-c3R, a long moan from around a corner gave her a.. decent idea of where to look. 

Peering around the corner, suddenly shy even though this was _her idea_ , the mini-femme bit back a gasp at the sight.. LAN-c3R was pressed against a smooth wall, she knew it was him, it was his voice, even distorted as it was by pleasure.. Pleasure being provided by the _entirety_ of his team at once. This tangle wasn't a disorganized creation, they weren't randomly trying to get into each other's plating, no, instead each of them was trying to please their leader, all at once. 

She'd learned a bit about them, LAN-c3R's team.. 02 was the one with the chain modification, which was swaying rather playfully as the mech it was attached to nuzzled his faceplate along LAN-c3R's spike. 03 had a damaged visor that he'd never repaired, a set of jagged lines raked down one side. She'd never asked if that obscured his vision, but it was safe to assume it did not, as he expertly drew his claws along LAN-c3R's plating and stroked. 04 was always the easiest to spot, at least, by face.. he had a set of goggles that were mounted to his faceplate, which didn't deter him in the least from fluttering what must have been the Eradicon version of 'kisses' over LAN-c3R's chestplates. And 05.. was against the wall with LAN-c3R, his face buried deep in his neck. He only had one hand--he'd replaced his other one with an old flamethrower, after some battle in the past. Still, he used that arm to hold his leader up, and from the way his legs wavered it was clear that without 05.. he would be a pile of Eradicon on the floor.

It took him quite some time to finally notice her, even after she'd cleared the corner.

"R-razorwind..!" LAN-c3R managed, wings quivering, entire frame tensing and releasing. He was being _teased_ , kept on the edge. _How long had this been going on?_

"So this is how you spend downtime with your team..." Razorwind smirked. She couldn't help but feel downright _naughty_ , watching them. It was a nice feeling after all that.. depression. 

04 disengaged long enough to speak... "We wanted to reward our leader for his recent promotion. Nearly the highest ranked drone on the ship. We're all very proud of him. And since he doesn't have any scheduled duties today, I proposed that we reward him with... one full day of interface. Obviously that means we have to start slow..."

LAN-c3R groaned as 02 pulled away from his spike just then, giving him less of what he needed. His hips bucked _hard_ and Razorwind was enraptured. If this was really going to go on _all day_ , she started to wonder how long she could watch without wanting to _join in_. 

At least she _was_ wondering that, until the loud crashing sound threw _everybody's_ concentration. Back toward the entrance, Razorwind heard the distinct sound of something heavy scraping across the slick floor.. someone had definitely just been bashed off their feet. Was this some kind of brawl breaking out?

"GET OUT OF MY WAY!" screeched a familiar and irritated voice. 

All of LAN-c3R's team halted. 04 was quick to vocalize, though in a hushed tone. "Starscream. He only comes here when he's angry, and he wants a quick frag. In fact, he is probably looking for--"

"Starscream will arrive in 5.8 seconds," 03 added, and 02 pulled away from his leader with a disgusted grumble. "Frag it all.."

Razorwind vented, huffing with irritation. "Who cares what he wants? Tell him to leave."

02 just chuckled to himself, looking over at the mini-seeker. "Drones don't get the luxury of refusing officers, Windy." And at that, 05's visor brightened, angrily. 

Even the roar of the washracks seemed to silence when Starscream rounded the corner. He was clearly in a foul mood, which only shifted to _devious and foul_ when he laid his optics upon Razorwind. 

"Well well.." he began, pacing around the gathering, predatory, "I wasn't expecting to see you here, recruit. You've already become comfortable enough in your station to start taking advantage of the drones?"

"From what I've heard, _Commander_ , the only one who takes advantage of them, is you..." Razorwind hissed her response, wings flaring upward defiantly. 

Starscream caught the gesture and snapped, shrill, stepping forward, looming over the mini-seeker. "You will show me respect!" 

Razorwind cast her head upward, disinterested in her fellow Seeker's posturing. "We are _both_ servants--of Megatron. I have no reason to fear you."

A distinct, uneasy quivering was passing itself around in the wings of the Eradicon team. No one talked to Starscream like that, without bringing down a storm of fury... at least, so they thought. But the storm never came. Instead, Starscream did something possibly more dangerous. 

He laughed. Light and gentle. It was a laugh they'd never heard. 

"Oh.. my. Now those are astonishing words, coming from a mini-seeker," Starscream strutted back over to Razorwind, wings flicking with each word, as if he was simply _delighted_ by this entire conversation.. "Considering the _history_ of your people." 

Razorwind's optics narrowed in an instant. "What do you mean.."

And he continued to circle her. 

"I suppose you _wouldn't know_ , would you?" he continued, drawing it out, toying with the _little_ Knight... "Since you were so peacefully sleeping in your stasis pod. You don't know what happened to the Line of Fireheart, to your precious Sedaver Vix.. You see, most of the Seeker cities were wiped out in the Great War. But yours, mini-seeker... yours was destroyed before it even truly began..." 

He paused just long enough to attempt to scrape a claw down Razorwind's face, but she was not so riveted that she wouldn't step to the side.. even as her anger was rising. "Explain yourself Starscream.. What do you know of my city..."

"Well.. dear Knight, when it came time to take sides, align ourselves with our future, the Seekers of Vos chose to serve Megatron, Champion of Kaon. And so followed all our cities, all of our _people_ , united. All of them, except one, unruly... _stain._ Your people. The Vixians stood in opposition. Your Winglord, Magmastorm, told my delegation quite unkindly.. that while the other Seekers may have forgotten, he had sworn an oath of loyalty to Zeta Prime.. one that he intended to keep. And that _disloyalty_ to one's oath, would be our downfall.. if Megatron did not destroy us first, that is..."

The energon in Razorwind could not decide if it was burning or freezing. But if it could have burst out and snuffed out Starscream's spark, it would have.

"And as much as it _pained me_..." he continued, waving a dramatic claw in the air, "to make such a decision.. I realized that as the Winglord of Vos, and soon to be _glorious_ symbol of a united Seeker faction... I couldn't have an entire city of traitors flying off to stand amongst Zeta Prime's wretched Autobots." 

Memories mixed with imagination to create something so potent that Razorwind didn't realize how close Starscream was... until his vocalizations vibrated against her audio receptor and jolted her back to _now_ , to _him_. 

_He was too close. And she couldn't move._

"So... I brought my armada down upon Sedaver Vix, and I razed it to the ground..." he hissed, smirking even as it would go unseen, "In the name of Megatron..." 

The tension was nearing its breaking point. Razorwind's hands curled into fists, strangling the air.. 

"Why.. if I think back, I can even remember Magmastorm's last words, right before I _tore out his spark_ in front of his dying attendants. I believe they were.." and here he _dared_ , he placed his lips on Razorwind and let her _feel_ it... **"...May you follow Megatron to the Pit."**

And that was all Razorwind was going to hear of this. 

The sharp slide of a sword being unsheathed was her only response as she took a savage swipe toward the Seeker above her, processor much too far gone to care about any potential consequences. 

"Oho.. is someone upset? But I am only--" 

"I never knew Magmastorm, but I will do what I can to avenge the Line of Fireheart. Prepare for combat, Starscream!" the Knight-Seeker shouted, fully in stance now, shield and sword at the ready. 

"So the mini-seeker thinks she can take on a _real_ opponent this time. How very," and he paused just long enough to deftly step away from a slash aimed at his leg, "Cute." 

There was no hesitation behind the follow up attacks. One slash, missed, chained into another slash, and another miss. Starscream was infinitely agile, his feet never slipping even along the slick floor. The dance of combat broke away from the Eradicon team, off into the winding sections of the washracks, Razorwind pursuing her opponent like a Pitspawned demon, rage flashing in her optics.

Eventually she struck just right, biting her blade into Starscream's upper leg and causing the Seeker to cry out with surprise.. which quickly morphed into something more primal, infuriated. He had _not_ intended to be damaged.

_Now it was a fight._

Long claws came down out of the air, blocked upon Razorwind's shield, but the impact rooted her feet, and his follow up slash came down heavy upon her sword arm, tearing the plating, spattering energon across the floor. Refusing to be deterred, Razorwind twisted her wrist just enough to plunge her sword downward, wanting to gash into Starscream's leg, but without enough momentum she merely left a nasty scrape down the plate.. which she then received a close look at--as that leg caught her square in the midsection, Starscream's kick forceful enough to lift her light frame off the ground--and into the opposite wall with a _crunch_. 

\---

The sound of the impact made all of LAN-c3R's team cringe. 

"She cannot fight him alone! I will assist her," LAN-c3R began, taking only a half step before 04 seized his arm.

"Absolutely not. You may be our leader--but I am our tactician. And your chance of success is--"

"7% chance of success. Chance of being offlined, 54%," 03 finished.

"Well we can't just sit here and listen to Screamer tear her apart!" 02 growled. It was one thing for Starscream to abuse _him_. It was another to hurt those he cared about, and 7% was a lot higher chance than they'd ever had on their _own_.

"I have a plan," 04 interrupted everyone's thoughts. "I'm going to call for backup."

\---

Razorwind was given _no_ time to recover, an opportunist to the core, Starscream stomped down on her already wounded arm and twisted his heel, a snarl on his lip plates. 

"I don't plan to offline you, you know. You and I... we are on the same side now, are we not? How _amusing_..." and here he crushed his foot down just a bit _harder_ , relishing in those sounds she couldn't hold back, "..that the last mini-seeker alive ended up as _traitor_ to her heritage! No.. such a _lovely_ irony cannot simply be... offlined. I think instead, I'll _bleed_ you. Until you're nice and weak.. and then, perhaps I'll find out why Megatron enjoys your company so, hmm?"

Even through the pain Razorwind managed to _growl._ "You will _never_ touch me, Starscream. And by Primus, you will pay for what you have done..." but here her determination faltered. Optics once locked upon her assailant trailed over to her arm where she noticed a significant pool of energon was forming.. and she was feeling a lot _lighter_ than normal.. "I swear it.. Starscream.. I swear.. it.." 

Just then, the ceiling lights shut off in their section of the washracks, one after another, cascading off in a chain, leaving them both in total darkness. Wanting to seize on this chance, Razorwind tried to struggle to her feet, but a sudden.. slithering over her frame caused her to freeze up, and she was promptly pulled upward and around a nearby corner.

She couldn't move, or question, or even.. feel anything. Suddenly numb, Razorwind could only stand, helplessly, as whoever had removed her from the wall held her in place. 

Starscream, on the other hand, was very _vocal_ about the recent developments. " _WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!_ The lights are _malfunctioning_ in here! Do not think you can escape from me, mini-seeker!"

Razorwind could see Starscream's optics as he hunted in the darkness, hear his claws reaching out every now and then at sounds, head turning in every direction.. scanning, scanning.. but eventually he snarled... and retreated. He hadn't been able to detect her. 

"Lord Starscream!" she heard the honeyed voice of 04, as he called out toward the vengeful Air Commander.. "My lord, forget about the mini-seeker. My team was in the middle of putting on a show.. and you are a _much_ more worthy audience than she was. Allow us, lord.. to _entertain you._ " 

Retreating footfalls sounded toward 04's beckon.. and Razorwind preferred not to think about what they entailed. At long last the appendages around her stirred, pulling her further along, through twisting corridors until they reached the far exit of the washracks. Only then, when they had escaped back into the halls of _The Nemesis_ , was she released. 

What had entangled her were two waving tentacles, attached to an all black Vehicon.. wait, she knew this one. This was Soundwave's personal drone. He had given her the mission to infiltrate the Autobots.. or at least Soundwave had done so _through_ him. She hadn't known he had his own tentacles.. though it would make sense for his master to modify him..

"Before you ask--yes, I am different from the other Vehicons, yes I did place you in stasis lock, and yes, I shut down your energy field so that Starscream would not be able to detect you. It was fortunate that 04 was quick to call me. What were you thinking, mini-seeker? Fighting against Starscream? He is Megatron's second for a _reason_ , disloyal and uncontrollable as he is.. he is a dangerous warrior, especially against a _smaller and weaker_ opponent." 

The drone finished his sentence so heavily that Razorwind could have crumpled. But there was still a blaze of anger inside her, that wouldn't pause for even the harshest of truths.

"He destroyed my _home_ , my _people_!" 

"And Megatron would have done the same."

A twisted kind of expression that was wholly _hurt_ came over Razorwind's face. 

_We never need to consider._

"Knowing what you do now.. does that change where your loyalty lies? Will you forsake your allegiance to Megatron in order to honor alliances made by lords you never met? What sense does that make to you, Knight-Seeker?"

_I have been weak._

"It..." she took a long.. slow invent, "..doesn't. But that doesn't make it any less.. painful."

"Then instead think of _why_ your Winglord would have sworn allegiance to an outsider. Why any Winglord would. Most Vehicons, including myself, have never seen Cybertron, never known it, but my history files indicate that the corrupt caste system was poisoning the planet to the core, splitting the population into nobility, and squalor, with nothing in between but high walls and checkpoints. In all likelihood, this 'Magmastorm' wanted to keep himself on the right side of those walls. Instead of making his alliance with the intent of fighting for the freedom of all Cybertronians, he would _scrape_ before a corrupt lord from Iacon." 

"I... refuse to believe anyone in the Line of Fireheart would resort to such cowardice." Razorwind managed.. it was all she could do.

"You don't have to believe it. You just have to use reason." 

And that was all either of them said, for some time. The silence was welcome.. welcomed by Razorwind who just wanted a moment to try and put all of this together, and then find where she belonged in it. 

In the only place she ever would. 

_My Razorwind..._

**Decepticon!**

Pain in her arm brought her out of her processor.. now that she was out of the shock of battle, she didn't feel so lightheaded, so dizzy, but she did have to remind herself about the energon she'd been losing. She couldn't just wander the halls with...

"Thank you, for saving me. I am afraid I do not know your designation."

"I don't have one. Soundwave wanted me to be unique. In his language--there are no _words_. " the Vehicon finished, graceful and content with his explanation in a way that informed Razorwind that he took great _pride_ , in his status. "The other drones call me null, no name, I have a few nicknames, you may use whichever of them you want." 

"Or I could simply say --thank you. It seems everything that happens to me this day is trying to teach me the same lesson," Razorwind finished, noting up ahead where their paths would surely diverge. She would _have_ to visit the med bay, and hope that Starscream didn't reach the same inevitable conclusion that she did, and be waiting for her. 

"The med bay is up ahead. Starscream is not there yet--the Wild Wings are quite a treat to watch interfacing.. they will hold his attention for some time, I am certain." 

"The.. what?" Razorwind latched onto this new topic quickly. Anything that wasn't harsh lessons of loyalty and what it meant to _be a Knight_ were welcome in her overtaxed processor. 

"That is what we call LAN-c3R's team. They've been together longer than rust on Unicron's aft," the Vehicon's tone lightened, clearly also welcoming the change in subject, "Even after 01 changed his name and got patched with that new combat data, they're still devoted to him. Always will be.." 

The quick opening of a side door cut off whatever the drone might have been trailing into saying. Razorwind jumped--she couldn't help but be on edge, but Starscream was _not_ on the other side of the door. 

Instead they were both greeted by.. Spittor. Who roved his blank, yellow optics over them both, before settling them down on the nameless Vehicon.. tentacles slithering from his midsection and waving in the air in patterns that Razorwind assumed meant something--but not for her. 

"Looks like this is where we part, Knight-Seeker," he spoke, following what must have been an order to accompany the large mech into the room behind the door. And with a second closing sound, Razorwind was alone in the hallway. 

\---

He was seeing it _again._

The look was not of astonishment. He'd known what he deserved.

The look was not of fear. He'd known what was going to happen.

_The look.. was of Hate. Because he'd been denied the only thing that still mattered._

Dreadwing. The last expression he'd managed to contort his face into, as the gaping hole where his spark _had been_ , smoldered, was _Hate._

Hate for his master. A master both himself and his splitspark twin had dedicated themselves to, with their entire beings.

 _To the Pit and back!_ They'd cried out when he took them. He could remember _that_ , as well.

But even Dreadwing's unshakable loyalty could be corrupted, and ultimately, destroyed. By the one thing powerful enough to do so. 

_His sparkbond._

When Skyquake died, it had changed him, very likely plunged him into a world of suffering.

Megatron couldn't know what that was like, but he did know what he felt simply being _closed off_ from his sparkbond. 

At first he tried to resume his duties, his dedication, but even Megatron had noticed that there was something off about Dreadwing. Something _damaged_. That need to find revenge, revenge for Skyquake's death and subsequent desecration, it weighed upon him, it warped him, strained him, and eventually, it _broke_ him. 

He refused a _direct order_ from his Lord, because the time had finally come where carrying out his revenge, mattered more to him than even loyalty.. than the insignia upon his wings. 

And Megatron had killed him for it. 

_Without hesitation._

_But what path am I on, then?_ He challenged himself, dangerously, the way he always did when these unavoidable thoughts came from the depths to torment him. 

_Optimus Prime must die._

He didn't believe in the tales from his youth, of star-crossed lovers who'd been dealt a cruel Fate.. when one died, the other's spark didn't simply vanish into nothingness, flittering off to the Well to join its _Intended_. 

I will remain alive. 

_Damaged._

How long will I fall? Into insanity... Without a very _part of myself_ , this accursed part, made by a young fool with a dream! 

What will I betray? When I am losing myself. What if I destroy _everything I have built?_

Where will I seek revenge? _When it is by my hand that I have destroyed my sparkbond..._

The sound of droplets forced him to look down. Energon.. dripping steadily to the ground.. forming a puddle.. forming an _ocean._ Sliding down his arm, from his hand, from his claws..

_Claws plunged into his own spark chamber!_

Megatron woke with a sudden start, fans whining, frame lurching, fangs bared even as he felt he could purge his tanks. 

He took a few long.. shuddering invents.. and attempted to return to recharge..

\---

Optimus vented a soft sigh, trying his best not to stir too much, disturb the mech that held him as he slept, deep in a peaceful and pleasant recharge. 

He'd never intended for this to become a habit, but looking back on it now, he reasoned that this was unavoidable. Ratchet needed the comfort as much as he did, and their recharging together did not always involve interface. It was the nearness of another frame, the warmth of another spark, that brought his old friend back to his berth every night, to hold him and let his field soothe him into his dreams. 

Dreams that clearly involved someone with a much... _smaller_ frame, Optimus noted, from the way Ratchet would dip low as he nuzzled at his simulated lover. 

Ratchet always drifted off first, though on many nights they would stay up together, talking, remembering, just enjoying each others' company.. but every night always ended this way, with Optimus laying awake, keeping watch over his medic.

And lost in his thoughts. 

This night, those thoughts were troubled. Not that they weren't often, as the _Prime_ he had to bear the responsibility of preserving the entire Cybertronian people, and that was, well that was something that provided troubling thoughts--but tonight they were a different _sort_ of troubled.

_One that was not his own._

Far off in the distance and in a far corner of his own self, Optimus Prime felt... _distress. Pain._

He knew where it were coming from. 

His bond with Megatron was old, weak. It had been closed shut, _tight_ , by them both, so many times over the ages. But that didn't make it any less insistent. No.. it only made it more _desperate_ to get through, when it felt it needed to. And with the recent attention he had given it... It was growing in strength. Refusing to sleep once more. _Not this time._

_Somewhere, Megatron suffers._

_He does not have to be alone--_ Optimus immediately responded, to himself. _I can feel him.. he can feel me._

He knew this was foolishness. Megatron _never_ accepted anything he sent over their bond. Not even when he was _furious_ with him, when he raged in utter disbelief that someone he _loved_ could be capable of such evil, Megatron remained silent. Not even to mock him for his trust, would Megatron dare open their spark bond. And Megatron almost never passed up an opportunity to do _that_. 

Opening their bond was too much of a risk. 

But did that mean he should give up? The bond was only growing more impatient, it seemed. _With them both_. 

_There is no reason not to try_. Even if I am rejected, I will know I at least offered... Some kind of comfort..

So he called back into that void within himself. Reached toward the pain. _Megatron, I'm here._

Concentrating a moment, Optimus realized he was yet again being ignored--but not the usual, cold and silent ignored, this time he got the distinct sense that what tormented Megatron was _interfering_ , it was _too loud_ , Megatron couldn't hear him over it.

If that was the case, Optimus would rise above it. _Megatron!_

His perception was widening--just a tiny bit. The distress, the pain, still there.. but caused by... fear. Megatron was _afraid._ But if he could tell that, then he was only getting closer.. It had been an uncountable number of years since he had been able to clearly discern one of Megatron's emotions, through their bond. The opportunity was too much to pass up. He would call again, and call stronger. He would not let this go! 

_MEGATRON!_

And suddenly there was a bright and streaking pain, a whiplash, or perhaps, a rake of claws--across his spark, across his _self_. Optimus recoiled inwardly, at the intensity.

Megatron finally noticed him. And his answer--was _refusal_. 

_NEVER._ He responded, driving Optimus _out_ , pushing him back. How.. had Megatron gone from feeling so weak and helpless against his fears, to this level of defiance?

 _Growing close to me is something he fears more than anything else. Anything._ Optimus knew the answer because Megatron was thinking it somewhere inside, betraying his secrets. 

_But he is not the only one capable of defiance._

Optimus would not be so easily dislodged from his foothold, driven out of a spark he was destined to _share_. Planting his feet in a ground that he was only imagining, he stood fast and challenged Megatron to remove him... and as the onslaught on his senses began, a battering of negativity, of repulsion, of regret... Optimus fought back. 

He sent Megatron his longing and his desperation, his own regrets, but most importantly he sent his _love_ and he did so with the whole of his spark. And it was when he did _that_ , that everything _exploded._

He could hear Megatron's roar. Never had it been so difficult to close their bond before and Megatron was infuriated. Optimus could feel the full tense of his massive frame, the murderous intent in his claws. If Megatron could have reached out to kill him he would have done so _right then._

 _OPTIMUS!_ Megatron's voice, came thundering over the bond, answering him, answering him at last, with his rage, with his warning. 

_Get out of my head!_ _I won't give in, Prime. I never will!_

_And I... will not give up._

He pushed back with the full force within his _self_. He felt the heat of his consciousness colliding with Megatron's, as it transferred into his frame. He couldn't pay that any heed now. He was locked in a struggle against his nemesis, against his destiny, if he slipped he might lose the one chance he had to _reconnect_ , bring an end to this, close this rift...

A sudden movement in front of his optics lapsed his concentration. "Megatron?" he cried out suddenly, he _wanted_ to see him, his spark wanted to see him, but it wasn't, where was he.. this was...

"Optimus!? You're overheating! By the Allspark, what is happening to you?" Ratchet's voice came from a Reality that was a little too far off to be understood at the moment. At least until his medic's frame was leaning over his, and the sudden shift in light made him reflexively reach forward--reach for his sparkbond, reach for...

"AAAH!" Ratchet _screamed_ and Optimus snapped from his inward struggles in an instant. Sparks dashed out of his fingertips over Ratchet's frame and he got his optics working again with just enough time to see Ratchet's fade swiftly.. as he collapsed, seemingly drained of all his energy, all at once. With a heavy clang, he fell downward into the berth, Optimus managing just enough reflex to catch him...

_With glowing blue hands._

_Panic gripped his processor._ "Ratchet?" Optimus quickly rolled his friend off of him, onto the berth, scrambling to sit up, get a look at him. He was completely offline, similar to a stasis lock.. at least for a moment--before his optics snapped back online and his entire body sprang upward.

His instinct had been to steady Ratchet, place a hand on his shoulder and ask if he was alright, but considering the.. state of his hands, he chose instead to simply back away, and ask. "Are you hurt, old friend? I... do not know what manner of power.. I unleashed upon you."

"Primus, Optimus.." Ratchet groaned as he tested his range of motion.. "That was _not_ the kind of overload I was looking for.."

"You must forgive me, Ratchet. And it may be best for you to head to the med bay, and scan for damages--"

"I'm fine, Optimus," Ratchet interrupted, more curious than anything else, "What I would like to know is.. how that happened."

The Prime vented again, his engine rumbling along... "I attempted to reopen my sparkbond.. Megatron was.. resistant. In our clash, I must have raised my spark's energy levels too high. I cannot say why or how, but I feel that this energy within my hands is excess.. being projected from my spark."

"Such a thing is not possible, Optimus... of course, neither are any of the mystical properties of the _Prime_. Which I suspect this.. ability of yours may be."

Optimus considered, though it didn't take him long. When he looked down at his hands, he got a distinct sense that this was something he _knew how to do,_ and was just now remembering.. this was an ability of the _Primes_ , one of them, and the knowledge of the technique was his all along, buried within the Wisdom of the Matrix, and waiting for its time to be used. 

"I believe you are right, Ratchet.." and just knowing that this was something he could _control_ , with time, was enough to start... he willed the energy back, back into his spark, and the glow left his hands over a few, dimming seconds.

"The capability to shut down another Cybertronian, even temporarily, at your own will.. is a powerful--and dangerous ability, Optimus.." Ratchet began, though he knew that if there was anyone who _didn't_ need a lecture on responsibility, it was his Prime. 

"And especially dangerous in the hands of someone who cannot control it," Optimus continued, shifting on the berth, his optics coming warily to meet with Ratchet's, a heavy kind of understanding within them.. "As such, I believe it would be best, if we ceased recharging together."

Ratchet nodded slowly.. he couldn't _deny_ Optimus was right but he wished he could. "I... am going to miss having someone keep me warm, while I recharge.." he took a moment to try and keep the heat from creeping along his faceplate, "I admit.. I had grown very fond of it."

"As did I, old friend.." Optimus shifted his expression to one of warmth, wanting to reflect what he felt inside.. "As did I.. But attempting to replace the affections within my sparkbond with others, has only seemed to.. _encourage_ it.." he let the thoughts trail, not sure if it was safe to voice such a potent truth aloud, "I find myself longing for Megatron, with greater intensity."

"Heh.." Ratchet leaned back, laughing to himself, maybe even _at_ _himself_. "I feel the same, Optimus. What have we done to ourselves.."

Ratchet lingered only for a moment, before gathering to his feet, he wouldn't drag this out too long, and he ought to be getting back into his recharge cycle--if he wanted to be productive tomorrow. Optimus rose with him, wanting to do _something,_ walk his friend-turned-lover through unfortunate circumstances to the door, _at least._

_Show him he didn't regret what they'd done._

They paused before each other, and Ratchet trusted Optimus enough to touch him, pull him in for one last kiss.. he had tried to avoid inciting any further desires but he couldn't stifle the slight moan as his Prime's glossa slid in lazy circles around his. 

_Primus, Optimus. You certainly know how to say goodbye._

"Thank you, Ratchet. For all you have done.. to try and ease this for me," Optimus had spoken when he finally pulled away, having taken longer than he ever intended. 

"Don't be so formal, Optimus. As you said, we both... needed it."

And Ratchet had meant for that to be _all_ , but only a short way down the long hall, he couldn't help but smirk, and the words just wouldn't let themselves go unsaid. "Oh.. and Optimus?"

He hadn't budged from the doorway. "Yes?"

"You were _one good frag._ "

Ratchet didn't turn to _see_ the smile he knew was spreading over Optimus's face.. or he would have never escaped.

\---

After being released from the med bay, Razorwind had retreated directly to her chambers, locked the door, and waited.

She didn't wait restlessly, lost in thoughts, she waited with the ease of someone who had their answer.

She waited only for an appropriate time to pay her Lord a visit, and remind him of her dedication. 

At the time he was usually settled in for recharge, Razorwind slipped from her chamber, quietly down the winding passages, to the massive doors.. and was nearly ready to key in her entry, as he had granted her access--when she heard.. rushing fans? Followed swiftly by a loud CLANG--ringing out through the inside of the chamber.. the floor jostled beneath her feet at the weight of whatever had made that impact, and Razorwind pulled inward, away from the door. That was _not_ the sound of interfacing. 

_Something was wrong._

_But I am not weak._

Refocused on her goal, Razorwind reached to the access pad on the door and entered her code.. and the doors pulled open just long enough for her to step in...

And Megatron's optics locked onto her, red and _furious_. 

His frame heaved with effort as his fans raced, his expression was somewhere between rage and confusion, and his face bore a ragged snarl... " _Never_.." he rasped to himself, seeming to be coming down from.. whatever this was that had gripped him... and Razorwind decided the best course of action was to finish what she'd started.

She would not belittle her Lord, by trying to comfort him. Whatever troubled him was stronger than she could ever be. What she had come to do in the first place, was offer him _control,_ and that would not change. 

"I.. was having trouble recharging alone.. my Lord. Might I share your berth tonight..?" she asked, all the mock-innocence she could muster, tempting him.. he loved to _play with her_ , and she knew it. She would have him playful this night. And forgetting about _this._

He rose from the berth, stretching out his arms, stretching like a predator with nothing to fear, showing himself off. It was what he _needed_ , to feel this way, and as he walked, full height, over to his tiny Knight, _imposing and impressive_ , he took note that she did not shrink from him.. like she had last time.. no, she was _eager_ again.. 

_His fangs broke into a smile._

"So, you have returned to me at last..." he observed, curling that possessive claw under her chin, tickling.

"I will always be yours."

Megatron was more than willing to _test_ those words, gathering her up, carrying her to his berth, pinning her beneath him and filling her with his spike, drinking in every cry, every reaction he had been _missing_ , while she had been hiding from him. He had barely finished before he wanted _more,_ and the ferocity of his desire was only matched by Razorwind's need to _give_... 

And Razorwind gave _everything_. What was there to hold back? To consider?

She belonged to Lord Megatron, body and spark alike, for laying in her chamber she'd gotten the single answer she needed, distilled from experiences and lessons and made into one concept.

 _Megatron was the Decepticon cause_.

_A Lord is what makes a Knight._

_And I trust Lord Megatron... to make something glorious of me!_

\---

The night had worn long. Megatron was slipping in and out of recharge... after having expended so much _effort_ , earlier. Shifting only a bit provided him a potent reminder, his Knight-Seeker was still _clenched_ around his spike, impaled there as if that was her _home_ , and he smiled wide and feral at the thought.. before pulling out of her, and letting her fall off to the side. He didn't worry about doing so gently--she would _not_ be waking until the morning, and probably _then some_. 

Still.. pleased as he was.. he couldn't help but feel _concern_ , creeping in. 

What he'd felt earlier, it wasn't mere simulations, nightmares of his processor taking hold--it was real, and he'd had to _fight_ it.

Optimus Prime was trying to reopen their sparkbond.

He'd driven him off, forced him out, shut the bond once again, but of the many times Optimus had reached out to him, this one was _deliberate_.

His bondmate had done it countless times without intent, despair welling up just _enough_ to make his spark call for relief, which Megatron would always ignore, he ignored everything Optimus would try and transfer to him, every stray emotion the Prime wasn't strong enough to cope with _alone._

But this time he had reacted to _me._

 _Perhaps I am.. sending him my own stray emotions._ Megatron growled, cursing himself. 

_Why would Optimus do this? Now? Does he think he can poison me, with his emotions? I am not some sparkless monster that has never known love--he cannot show it to me and expect my resolve to crumble.. The reason we are bonded at all is because I once loved him, and that time was before he became..._

_Optimus Prime._ The name of my _enemy._

Megatron had never failed to _kill_ , his _enemies._

"Make no mistake, Optimus.." he spoke aloud, demonstrating, to the world, for it had to be _known_ , "I intend to destroy us both. The consequences frighten me. You _know_ they do. But I have never backed away because of _fear_ , and you know that as well... If you want to pry into my spark, I welcome the challenge."

 _I will fight you every step of the way._ The Prime would earn _nothing,_ even if he succeeded. 

_The sensation of my own claws inside my spark plague me in dream after dream... I have felt it a thousand times!_

"I will not hesitate! When I tear into _yours,_ Optimus Prime.. when I rip it out and crush it in my _fist!_ " Megatron snarled to the darkness, to his sparkbond, wherever he slept, wherever he dared to defy him.

_Victory was all that mattered..._

_Victory for the Decepticons._

\---

He hadn't been able to recharge, because he hadn't tried. 

The Prime sat upon his berth, hands raised, determination on his face, for he did not have time to spare.

Outlines of light, dim and fleeting, lit the edges of his fingers.

"This is no coincidence, that this skill has only been revealed to me now. The Matrix divulges its wisdom when it is _needed,_ that I can feel beyond any doubt. As such.. this ability must be _honed_..." he spoke to himself, quietly, steadying, a focus point for his concentration.

But for a moment, his focus upon _duty_ and _necessity_ waned, distracted by the pull of his spark.. 

_He is thinking of me._

And it was _that_ , that caused the light he'd been attempting to cultivate for so long with such little effort... to brighten.

_But he is thinking of killing me._

_Megatron.. can there be a future where we do not destroy each other?_

Finally exhausted, Optimus lowered his hands, and let himself recharge.

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reading Chapter 5, you win a poster of Shockwave holding a bar of soap, that reads:  
> HYGIENE IS LOGICAL  
> There's one hanging in the Eradicon washracks. Well... there was.


End file.
